New Perspective
by saelysia-the-greater
Summary: "I don't know how to prove to you that I'm not him! I'm not my father! I'm just Harry! No one else!" During a Occlumency lesson with Professor Snape, tempers mount and Harry finally has enough of Snape's perspective of him. But can Severus see past his old hatreds and come to appreciate Harry as himself? Severus Snape/Harry Potter. Rated M for language and future mature content.
1. Chapter 1

_**New Perspective (Or the New-Found Adoration of Severus Snape)**_

**Chapter One- When Our Fears Become Nightmares**

_Rating: M_

_A/N: Hello again! This is the rewritten, new-and-improved 'New Perspective'. *virtual fireworks* I got my baby up and running again, and I seriously hope that you all enjoy as much as I do. I sincerely appreciate all of your support and love through this. I was really rather surprised when I didn't get hate mail saying "No, bitch, you can't do this!" That just proves how awesome you guys are. I love you all passionately. I plan to propose to you all with a strawberry-flavoured Ring Pop and a lifetime supply of virtual Nutella (that promise makes them Sister Wives folks look like total noobs. Haha) This rendition of the story will have the same general plot line (not that it really showed in the last one), but I'm hoping this one will be darker and much more angsty. Which is what I wanted for the first go round originally. Anyway, I'm done with my ridiculously long author's note. Read on and enjoy, old fans and new._

"_New Perspective" by Panic! At the Disco, "Believe" by the Bravery, "Anna Sun" by Walk the Moon, "It's Time" by Imagine Dragons, and "Changes" by the Airborne Toxic Event wrote this chapter._

_The lovely J.K. Rowling owns all of this. How I wish I did._

* * *

_He was in the Department of Mysteries, running through the Hall of Prophecy, Luna and Hermione flanking him. The shelves that held the prophecies were crashing all around them, the little glass spheres smashing into pieces on the floor._

_His own prophecy was currently clenched in his sweaty palms, threatening with each sharp turn he made to slip out of his fingers. At this point, he really didn't give a damn. He'd throw the thing if it meant he and his friends could get out of here._

_The look on Lucius Malfoy's face would've been reward enough for not knowing the entire prophecy._

_He heard Luna shout something behind him, but he couldn't turn around and look. He couldn't…couldn't…_

_Harry blinked and suddenly he was standing in the Death Chamber. The Veil, strangely, morbidly beautiful, was the first thing he saw. Then red flashes of light caught his attention, and he turned to see Sirius dueling with Bellatrix, an ugly, twisted look on her face._

"_Blood traitor!" she screamed at her cousin, shooting an unfamiliar curse at him._

_Sirius laughed and dodged, firing a few curses of his own back at her. "Surely you could do better than that!" he taunted, a canine-like grin on his face. He twisted to the right, another curse just barely missing him._

_He was too rash, too cocky. Bellatrix was going to outsmart him, and he was going to get himself killed. He couldn't get himself killed. He was the only remaining family Harry had left. No, no. He couldn't lose Sirius._

'No…no, Sirius!'

_Harry wanted to cry out, to get Sirius' attention, to tell him to be careful, something, but his vocal cords were frozen. He was mute._

_Harry shot forward, shooting curses at Bellatrix. Anything to divert her attention away from his godfather._

_Bellatrix shrieked at him, though her words were unintelligible, and shot a green light at him. Harry's eyes widened fractionally, but he wasn't afraid. He knew what that curse was. He knew what it did. But he wasn't afraid to die._

"_Harry!" Sirius yelled._

_Harry looked over at him, smiling faintly at him. He was protecting his godfather. Somewhere in his subconscious, he was telling himself that it was supposed to be the other way around, but he didn't care. _

"_No!"_

_Sirius slammed into Harry, sending him spread-eagle onto the floor, the _Avada Kedavra _hitting him square in the chest._

"_Sirius!"_

_Harry watched in horror as his godfather fell through the Veil, the look of shock permanently etched onto his face. _

"_Your godfather won't be able to save you this time!" Bellatrix crowed triumphantly, aiming her wand at him with a sadistic smile on her face. _

_Then, everything around him froze. _

_The curse that Bellatrix had just sent flying at him stopped in midair, and everyone else around him had were frozen in whatever they were doing. They were as still as statues._

_Harry picked himself up, looking around curiously. He'd never heard of a spell that could freeze time. This was odd._

_Suddenly, the Veil flashed a brilliant white, and Sirius reappeared. Harry's felt leaped in his chest and made to run to him, but the Veil flashed twice more, and three more people appeared._

_Three very familiar people._

"_Mum…Dad…"_

_Lily and James Potter looked at their only son. Lily's brilliant eyes filled up with tears and James wrapped a comforting arm around his wife. _

_He looked past his parents, and his heart clenched painfully. It was Cedric Diggory, still wearing the uniform from the Triwizard Tournament. _

"_Ced…"_

"_It was your fault," Cedric said as if Harry hadn't spoken. "It was your fault we died."_

"_It was," Sirius agreed._

"_No…No, I didn't mean for it to be… I didn't want this to happen!"_

"_It still did," Cedric said._

"_I swear, I didn't want it to happen! I didn't mean for you all to die! No, no, please!" he begged, tears rolling down his face, as they all turned away from him, each stepping back through the Veil._

"_No, please! Sirius! Don't!"_

"Harry! Harry, wake up!"

Harry's eyes flew open, his heart pounding in his chest, fumbling for his wand. His hand, instead of grabbing the thin piece of wood, collided with warm, human flesh. Harry cringed away from it, like it had burned him.

"Harry, it was just a nightmare," a familiar voice said, much softer than it had been before.

Harry blinked a few times, his eyes focusing in the dim light. His godfather's face swam before his vision and he let out a choked sob. "Sirius," he said, reaching out for him.

Sirius gathered the shaking, crying teenager into his arms as if he were a five-year-old. This had been the fourth time this week Harry had had a nightmare, and it was starting to worry him and Remus.

"You…you said it was my fault…"

"What was your fault, Harry?" he asked gently.

"That…you…you died," Harry sobbed.

"Oh Harry," Sirius sighed, hugging his godson to him.

Ever since the fiasco at the Ministry, Harry had started having dreams in which Sirius died, and they frightened Harry much more than he would ever admit.

"And…C-Cedric said…he said it my fault…"

Sirius closed his eyes and sighed again. He knew that Cedric's death was still extremely hard for his godson, but he couldn't even begin to understand the pain Harry was going through. Cedric had been so important to him.

"It's not your fault, Harry," Sirius soothed, loosening his vice grip on Harry. "You couldn't have known. It is _not your fault_. Do you understand?"

Harry, his cheeks still coated with tears, nodded. "I know."

"Good. Take a Sleeping Draught, yeah? You look exhausted," Sirius said.

"Alright, Sirius," he said, reaching into his nightstand to pull out a vial of purple liquid. He downed it and nodded at Sirius, laying back in bed and closing his eyes.

Sirius smiled fondly at Harry, though it was a sad smile, and left Harry's room.

"Another nightmare?" Remus asked when Sirius closed Harry's door behind him.

"Yeah," Sirius said, running a hand over his face. "Cedric was in this one."

Remus nodded in understanding, drawing Sirius into an embrace. "These nightmares keep getting worse."

"I know, Moony. But I don't know how to stop them."

* * *

The kitchen in Grimmauld Place was quiet when Harry went down for some breakfast the next morning. His head was pounding and his eyes burned with fatigue.

He'd taken the Sleeping Draught like Sirius had asked him to, but it hadn't done much for him. They never seemed to work on him.

He snorted. Nothing ever seemed to work for him. Not as the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Morning, Harry," Remus said when he saw Harry, his amber eyes full of concern.

"Morning," Harry replied, grabbing some toast off the counter. He took a small bite of it, grimacing when the texture felt like sawdust in his mouth.

"I take it you didn't get any sleep?"

"Not really," Harry said, sitting down next to Remus. "I don't know what to do. The nightmares don't happen every night, so it's not like I can really do anything about them."

Remus nodded in understanding. "It'll be alright, Harry," he said. He touched Harry's shoulder comfortingly.

"Thanks, Remus," Harry said, though he didn't really believe the werewolf's positivity.

Remus smiled at him. "It's what I'm here for, Harry."

"I thought you were here to keep me satisfied?" Sirius asked as he entered this kitchen, clad only in his sleep pants.

"Well, that too," Remus said, eyeing Sirius' torso appreciatively.

"Oh Merlin," Harry groaned, covering his eyes with his hands. "Please don't start now. It's bad enough you two forgot a silencing charm last week."

Sirius and Remus stared at him, their faces flushing lovely shades of magenta.

"Erm…well…sorry about that, Harry," Remus managed to say, scratching at his neck awkwardly. Sirius was still staring at him, seemingly unable to say anything.

Harry smiled a little at the expression on his godfather's face. "I'm going to go take a shower. Try not to get up to any mischief while I'm gone. We _do_ eat in here, you know."

Ducking the playful cuff Remus aimed at him, Harry hurried out of the kitchen and up to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He leaned against the door for a moment before straightening up.

He stripped slowly and then looked at himself in the mirror, taking in his scrawny appearance. He was a bit shorter than other boys his age, and much thinner than he should've been, but playing Quidditch had definitely given him some muscle definition.

He ignored the few scars he had on his arms and back, pretending as if they didn't exist. He no longer had to the live with the Dursleys, seeing as Sirius had had his name cleared by the Ministry, so he no longer really thought about his life there.

He turned the water on and waited for it to heat up before slipping in. The heat felt good against his skin and worked out the kinks in his muscles that had been building up.

While he was running some shampoo through his unruly hair, he began thinking of his nightmare. He'd had that one before, but Cedric had never been a part of it.

His heart clenched painfully and he nearly staggered in the shower. He put a hand to the wall to brace himself, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. He hadn't thought about Cedric for a while, and the pain was still as fresh as it had been when he'd first died.

Cedric Diggory had been Harry's first…everything. First kiss, first love…first time.

To hear those words come from him, even though it was just in a dream, was hurtful. Harry felt the guilt every single day. It should've been him who died in that graveyard, not Cedric.

No matter what anyone else told him, Harry thought that he would always feel responsible for Cedric's death. Hermione had said this was normal, this survivor's guilt, but she had also said that it only lasted a little while.

It had been a year since he died. That wasn't a little while.

Harry rinsed his hair out and sighed. What he wouldn't give for just one normal day in his crazy life, where he didn't have to worry about people dying.

He shut the water off and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist. He picked up his sleep clothes and headed across the hall to his bedroom, shutting the door with his foot.

He toweled off and grabbed the first clean clothes that he could find, which ended up being a green t-shirt and black jeans. That was fine for today. He didn't think that he was going anywhere.

After Sirius had his name cleared of all the murder charges at the beginning of this summer, he'd taken custody of Harry, which the Dursleys had given willingly, and taken him to London to get him an entire new wardrobe of clothes and other things.

Harry had moved into Grimmauld Place with Sirius and Remus, and he couldn't have been happier. He was finally away from the Dursleys, and Sirius could walk down Diagon Alley without having to worry about being arrested.

Harry had never been happier in his life. Well, except for his first kiss with Cedric. That….that kind of topped everything else.

But everything had been soured by these nightmares.

In the Department of Mysteries, Sirius had nearly died, but with a stroke of genius – and a shitload of luck – Harry had grabbed him by the arm and pulled him away from the Veil. He'd been injured from the curse that Bellatrix had hit him with, but he'd survived.

And that made all the difference in Harry's eyes.

But the _what-if's_ had decided to come into play after the ordeal. What if he hadn't grabbed Sirius? What if he hadn't been standing next to Sirius? What if something had happened to Sirius?

They had plagued his thoughts constantly until Sirius had sat down with him one day and told him up straight that Harry shouldn't feel responsible for something that didn't happen. Sirius was alive, he was breathing, and he damn well wasn't going to go anywhere in the foreseeable future.

Harry had shivered at his use of _foreseeable_, seeing as it was prophecy that had gotten them into this mess in the first place, but he had agreed, albeit reluctantly.

That was when the nightmares had started.

Before, it had been only his parents that came out of the Veil. They never said anything to him. They just stood there and looked at him, but he could feel their eyes upon him, blaming him for their deaths.

He knew that it wasn't his fault, really, but the dreams were so realistic that he'd woken up with guilt weighing on him heavily.

Then Sirius came with his parents. And the guilt had doubled.

He never expected Cedric to make an appearance in his nightmares, but he probably should have. Anything was possible when you were Harry Potter.

Harry sighed and run his fingers through his hair, knowing that any attempt to tame it would be in vain. He left his bedroom, freshly dressed, and wandered back down to the kitchen, hoping he didn't catch his godfather and Remus in the throes of ecstasy.

Honestly, that would've been too much.

He stopped outside the door when he heard a voice that wasn't Remus or Sirius'.

"I will tell the Headmaster of Potter's…nightmares," said the drawling, silky voice of Severus Snape.

"Thank you, Severus," Remus said gratefully. He heard Sirius mutter something like a "thank you" but it was probably because Remus made him.

"Don't thank me, Lupin," Snape drawled.

Harry heard the scraping of chairs against the floor, as if they were all getting up, so Harry entered the kitchen.

Snape was in his normal teaching robes – not a big surprise there – and he looked much more threatening in the kitchen of his home than he did in the Potions classroom at Hogwarts.

"Hello, Professor," Harry said courteously, knowing that Remus would have his hide if he was rude to Snape.

"Potter." Snape inclined his head curtly. That was as much as a greeting as Harry was going to get. He looked back at Remus and Sirius. "I'll see the Headmaster once I return to Hogwarts."

Remus nodded and smiled thinly at Snape.

Sirius was staring at the table like a sullen child, pouting because Remus wasn't going to let him have at it with Snape. Harry found it rather comical.

Without another word to any of them, Snape Apparated with a faint _pop_.

The kitchen was silent for a few moments until Harry asked, a little snappishly, "You were talking to him about my nightmares?"

Remus nodded. "I know it's personal, Harry, but I think Dumbledore should know. If by any chance that Voldemort's getting into your head again, we need to be prepared."

Harry, who had been ready to yell at his guardians, felt his anger deflate at Remus' clearly thought-out reasoning. It made sense. He just wished that Snape didn't have to know about it. That would give him one more thing to add onto his "reasons to ridicule Harry Potter" list.

"Believe me, pup, I didn't want him to know either," Sirius said, as if reading his mind.

Harry nodded. "It makes sense, though. I didn't really think of that."

Remus smiled fondly. "It'll be fine, cub. What's the worst that could happen?"

* * *

That was definitely the wrong thing to say in Harry Potter's presence.

Later that night, during dinner, an owl delivered a letter addressed to Harry from Professor Dumbledore.

Harry tore it open and read it aloud.

"_Harry, in light of these recent nightmares that you've been having, it is my personal belief that we prepare you mentally in case Lord Voldemort is manipulating your memories._"

Remus sent both Sirius and Harry a look that said "I told you so."

"_So_," Harry continued, ignoring Remus, _"Professor Snape has graciously agreed to teach you Occlumency once again._"

Oh yeah._ What's the worst that could happen_ was definitely the wrong thing to ask when Harry was around.

* * *

_So, I hope you all like the beginning of the rewrite. I love you all. I have all of your reviews saved in my e-mail (mostly because I'm a narcissistic bitch), but more reviews would be lovely! Let me know what you think. So, read, review, show me love. Love, kisses, and Nutella to you all!_


	2. Chapter 2

_**New Perspective (Or the New-Found Adoration of Severus Snape)**_

**Chapter Two- Determination Is the Best Policy **

_Rating: M- foul language, possible fighting, the whole drill._

_So! Everyone's reaction to the rewrite was so wonderful. You all made me tear up. Like, literally. And I never lie about tearing up (I tear up every single time I watch _RENT_). Anyway, I love you all so bloody much. I'm working on getting a giant Ring Pop just so I can propose to you all. Maybe I'll just individually message you all and propose that way. *ponders this* No… It'd take too damn long. You all left very insightful reviews, and I really appreciated that. It kind of reinforced my will to continue to rewrite it. I was so afraid everyone would hate it and then I'd just go die or something. Not really. I'm too fond of myself for suicide. (Haha. Sherlock Holmes reference there, for all you RDJ fans). _

"_Ready to Go (Get Me Out of My Mind)" by Panic! At the Disco, "Monsters" by Matchbook Romance, "The Kill" by 30 Seconds to Mars, "Time Is Running Out" by Muse, and "We're Going to Be Friends" by the White Stripes helped speed this chapter along._

_J.K. Rowling owns Harry and his friends and others, much to my chagrin._

* * *

To say Severus Snape was happy with the situation at hand was a grossly blatant lie, and if he heard such idiocy come from the mouth of any poor clueless, innocent bystander, he'd hex them six ways to Sunday.

He was being forced to teach the Potter boy Occlumency once again. He had protested, of course. He had ranted about Potter's incompetence, threatened his resignation (which he never actually intended to fulfill), and even went as low as to threaten the Headmaster with several painful curses that lasted for about six to eight months.

And what did the old man say?

"_I shall let Harry know that you have agreed to teach him_."

_Agreed?!_ He, Severus Tobias Snape, would never agree to teach Potter Occlumency! Never! The boy obviously lacked the mental facilities to accomplish such an intricate and demanding art. He was impatient, arrogant, and acted exactly like his father had before him!

And Dumbledore had told him he was to teach him. With that thrice-damned twinkle in his eyes.

A sneer crossed Severus' face as he sat in his private office, a glass of firewhiskey in his hands. He didn't like to drink much – it clouded the mind far too easily for his liking – but he felt the need for one tonight.

He took a long draught of the bitter liquid, sighing at the unfamiliar burn in the back of his throat as he swallowed. He could tell there was a hell of a hangover waiting for him tomorrow, but at the moment he couldn't even begin to care.

Sometimes, he often wondered if he could just fake his own death and then retire somewhere in the countryside, like the recluse he was. It actually didn't sound like too bad of an idea.

An unrealistic one, but still nice.

Potter was going to be the death of him, Severus decided as he stared at his now empty glass. Between the Dark Lord and Dumbledore, both of whom wanted him close to Potter for reasons that were almost completely beyond him – seeing as he and the boy had a mutual animosity towards one another – they were going to kill him.

That, or he'd kill the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-A-Bloody-Pain-in-the-Arse himself.

Along with his early retirement into the countryside, that idea didn't sound too bad either.

Granted, Potter had been rather respectful this morning at Grimmauld Place, almost as if he were making a conscious effort to be nice.

Severus snorted at the thought. If Lupin hadn't been there, Potter and Black may have started World War III there in the kitchen.

At least, Black would've attempted.

And as much as Severus hated to admit it, Potter was looking a little thin – well, thinner than normal – and he had dark shadows under his eyes, as if he hadn't been sleeping well. And the urgency in Lupin's voice when he had told Severus about these nightmares had Severus thinking that this wasn't a prank that Potter had been pulling for attention.

Severus snorted again. Right.

He stared at the empty glass again. Hangovers be damned.

He was drinking tonight.

* * *

The kitchen at Grimmauld was silent when Harry finished reading the letter. He stared at it, a feeling of dread beginning to bubble up in his mind.

This was going to be a disaster.

"I'm sorry," Sirius finally said. "But can you repeat that again?"

"Dumbledore…wants me to resume Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape," Harry said, his voice monotonous.

Sirius and Remus stared at him for a few moments longer until Remus said slowly, "Well….at least he's taking it seriously."

"Taking it seriously?" Harry snorted, his brain finally processing the situation. "This is going to be a disaster! Does he not realise that Snape and I hate each other?!"

"Now, Harry," Remus chided. "Professor Dumbledore would only suggest this if he thought it was for your benefit. He knows you and Snape don't like one another. That means that he sees no other alternative."

"Or he's a sadistic bastard," Harry muttered.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Honestly, the two of you are like children. It's a wonder I haven't lost my mind yet," he said, standing up, shaking his head as he left the kitchen.

Sirius sighed. "Harry, much as I hate to say this, but Moony's right. I can't see Dumbledore doing this unless he had a good reason behind it."

"I still think he's a sadistic bastard."

Sirius laughed lowly. "Probably. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a mate that needs attending to." He winked at Harry, who pulled a disgusted glare, and left, calling for Remus.

"They're like horny teenagers," Harry muttered, following suit. He went up to his bedroom and collapsed on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

He sometimes wondered if Dumbledore knew what the hell he was doing. He preached that he had Harry's best interests in mind, but Harry had seriously doubted that on more than one occasion.

Exhibit A: Dumbledore had left him with the Dursleys, who had treated him like he was less than human. They had starved him, locked him a room that had bars on the windows, tried to "stomp" the magic out of him, all kinds of ghastly behaviour.

And why had Dumbledore left him there?

The blood wards that sounded number four, Privet Drive protected him. Supposedly.

Harry sighed and ran his hand over his face. There was one person he could talk to about this.

Hermione Granger, pseudo-sister and bookworm extraordinaire for the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry smiled slightly. If anyone could give him some advice, it would be Hermione.

Harry sat up and opened his nightstand drawer, routing through it until he found some unused parchment and a quill.

He leaned back against his pillow and nibbled on the edge of the quill until he knew what he wanted to say.

"_Hermione," _he scrawled, trying his best to make his chicken scratch look nice. "_How are you? I had another nightmare last night, and Moony and Padfoot contacted Snape about it. They asked him to tell Dumbledore, and he said that Snape _graciously_ accepted to teach me Occlumency again. I know that there was no way in hell that Snape would ever agree to teach me unless Dumbledore _made_ him. And then I have those lessons with Dumbledore on top of Occlumency. What if I make a complete fool of myself again in front of Snape? He already hates me. This would just egg him on even more! When you can, owl me back, please. Much love, Harry._"

He signed it with a flourish and waited for the ink to dry before stuffing it in one of the empty envelopes that he had laying around, motioning for Hedwig to take it.

The snowy owl stared at him fondly, nipping at his finger affectionately.

"Take this to Hermione, yeah?" he asked, petting her feathers softly.

She hooted her consent and took the letter, nudging Harry's hand and flying out the window when Harry opened it for her.

He stared after her for a few moments before shutting it with a sigh.

Harry wanted the nightmares to go away, he really did. They drove him to the point of borderline insomnia, staying up late until he simply fell asleep from sheer exhaustion. It was horrible and exhausting, this vicious pattern he had.

He could never tell when he was going to have a nightmare. They always came unexpectedly, so he was unprepared for them every time. And they had gotten worse.

Harry sat on the foot of his bed tiredly, running a hand over his eyes again. There was no way he could keep this up. He'd eventually run himself too thin, and then all hell would break loose.

Harry laid back and curled up into a ball on his side, looking at the window that Hedwig had just flown through. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to close his eyes for a little while…

* * *

"_Look at yourself, Potter," a voice whispered in his __ear, almost like the hissing of a snake. "You're tired, weak… You can't even defend yourself properly."_

_Harry opened his eyes and found himself staring face to face with Tom Riddle, the one he had faced in the Chamber of Secrets, his pale skin shining in the darkness. _

"_You can't even block me out," Tom whispered, smiling. Harry fought back a shiver._

"_You can't even…protect…your…friends."_

_Harry could feel Tom's breath on his cheeks, ice cold and bitter. He refused to look away or show any sign of discomfort, knowing that Tom would take advantage of it. He'd take any advantage he could find._

_Tom laughed, the sound frightening and chilling to the bone. "Oh, you're so right, Harry. So, so right." He tapped Harry's forehead with one finger. "I would take advantage of any weakness that you had. And you have so, so many."_

_He ran his cold fingers through Harry's hair, his nails scraping against his scalp roughly. Harry flinched, earning another laugh from Tom._

"_I can read your mind as if it were a book, Harry Potter," Tom continued, starting to circle around Harry. "Every single thought, fear, wish… Anything."_

_Harry shivered, feeling as if he were slowly being submerged in ice. His heart was beating painfully fast in his chest, but he couldn't move, couldn't breathe. His chest felt like it was being compressed by something heavy._

"_Feeling scared yet, Harry? Of course you are. You're scared every single time you think of me. And you and I both know that's the truth." Tom laughed again._

"_G-Go away," Harry managed to rasp out, his voice sounding small and pathetic to his own ears._

"_Everything about you is small and pathetic, Harry Potter. You can't even begin to possibly think you could ever defeat me. You're too weak."_

"_N-not w-weak."_

"_Oh really? Tell me, Harry, do you feel your strength slowly leaving you? Do you feel as if you are dying slowly, painfully, like the death you've always known you'll have?" Tom's voice had dropped to a whisper. His lips were pressed against Harry's each, hissing each word slowly and precisely._

_Harry shivered, wanting to throw him off, but he couldn't move. He was frozen._

"_I will kill you, Harry, you know that?"_

_Harry didn't want to, but he felt himself nod slowly. He knew, he had always known. It was something that he couldn't fight._

"_I see you've accepted your fate, Harry James Potter," Tom said, a smile curling his lips. His handsome face was illuminated. _

"_For now, though," Tom said, reaching forward and pressing his index finger against Harry's scar._

_Harry's head erupted into a blinding, splitting pain, making him scream out in agony. _

_His screams grew more and more ragged as the pain increased. _

_He wanted to die, to end the pain, he wanted…he wanted…_

"Dammit, Potter, wake up!"

Harry's eyes flew open to see Severus Snape standing over him, the Potions master's hands shaking his shoulders roughly.

"Wake up, Potter," he snarled.

Harry's eyes watered from the strain of keeping them open, the pain in his head fading away bit by bit.

"P-Professor?" Harry croaked, his voice raw from screaming. He could hardly believe that his Potions professor, the man who had basically said that he hated Harry on more than one occasion, was standing in his bedroom, trying to shake him out of his nightmare.

"Yes, Potter," Snape said, loosening his grip on Harry's shoulders. "You need to sit up. Slowly."

Harry did as he was told, his head pounding from the motion. "N-not to sound rude, but why…why are you hear?"

"I was speaking with your godfather and his…mate about your Occlumency lessons," Snape said, a sneer crossing his face. It was gone before Harry could say anything. "We heard you screaming."

"S-sorry, sir," Harry said, pressing the heel of his palm to his forehead. "I-I d-didn't… W-where's Sirius and Remus?"

"They're downstairs," Snape said. "Lupin had to put a Body-Bind Curse on your godfather to restrain him. "

"O-Ok," Harry said, nodding slowly. The pain was almost gone now, though there was a residual ache in the back of his skull. "T-thank you, sir."

"Don't thank me yet, Potter," Snape said, releasing his hold on Harry when he determined that Harry could sit up on his own. He turned away and made his way to the door, before Harry called out to him.

He turned back, slightly taken aback at the determined look blazing in Potter's eyes.

"Sir, I need to learn Occlumency," he said. "I can't spend the rest of my life with these nightmares. I want and I need to learn it."

"Whether or not you want to learn it is irrelevant, Potter," Snape said. "The question is: are you prepared to work for it?"

"Yes."

* * *

_So, I hope that was a good chapter for you guys. I definitely like it. *smiles evilly* I'm so proud of myself for cranking this one out. Now, I need to go do my homework after spending…three hours writing this. Read, review, show love. Ya know the drill. Love and kisses and Nutella to you all!_


	3. Chapter 3

_**New Perspective (Or the New-Found Adoration of Severus Snape)**_

**Chapter Three- That's Not Very Reassuring**

_Rating: M- foul language, possible fighting because Draco Malfoy is being his obnoxiously annoying twit self, perverted and immature jokes, etc._

_Hello, everyone. Sorry it's been a while. I had horrendous writer's block for this story. My everything hurts right now… I went to a Boy Scout event on Saturday for my brother and decided to try the rock climbing wall. I got about three-fourths of the way up and flipped out. I'm terrified out heights. On a happier note, we had our homecoming this past week. Our football team won by…a lot. I don't even think the other team managed to score anything. Peaches and I went to the game. We sat by what I called the Mosh Pit of Death. It was absolutely crazy. We were pretty sure there was going to be a fight or something, because there's a huge rivalry between our school and that school. I was prepared for throwing down and possibly getting arrested for simply being there, seeing as that it my luck. Then we went to our homecoming dance. We both looked fabulous. We had a great time, minus the whole grinding and seeing much more of our female classmates' genitalia than I think we EVER wanted to see. Oh, and I got a boyfriend out of the whole thing, so, win win!_

"_Mercenary" by Panic! At the Disco, "Feeling Good" by Michael Bublé, "Toxic" from Glee, "Don't Stop Me Now" by Queen, and "Bicycle Race" by Queen wrote this chapter. _

_Ms. Rowling, who should be made into a god, owns everything except the plot. I'm having my lawyers work on transferring all the rights over to me._

* * *

The last few weeks of August passed way too quickly in Harry's opinion. Before he knew it, it was nine o'clock in the evening and the upcoming school year was sitting practically right in front of his face.

After the night Professor Snape had pulled Harry out of his nightmare – or vision, really – the nightmares had stopped. Sirius and Harry found it rather weird, but Remus seemed to think that it was a sign of some sort. Whenever the subject was brought up, he'd give Harry and Sirius these looks that screamed "I told you so", so they tried to never mention it.

Tried being the key word there.

Harry was glad that he hadn't seen Professor Snape since that night. He was grateful for what the man did, he really was, but he was afraid he would've lost his resolve for the Occlumency lessons if he'd had to deal with the snarky Potions master.

"I can hear the gears turning in your mind, Harry," Remus said from his seat, his eyes never leaving the thick book in his lap. "Something wrong?"

"Not really," Harry said absentmindedly, gazing at the fireplace. "Just thinking about school."

"That was a very vague answer, Harry." Remus placed a finger on the page his was on and closed the book, looking at Harry.

Harry sighed. He knew Remus would've picked up on it. Honestly, the man was never satisfied with simple answers. But then again, neither was Hermione.

"It's Professor Snape," Harry said, stretching his legs out on the floor.

"What about him?"

"What happens if our Occlumency lessons end like last year's? Those ended up being a disaster," Harry said, looking at Remus. "I know Professor Snape doesn't like me. He hated Dad. I don't…"

"Don't what?" Remus' eyes were soft with understanding, and Harry was suddenly extremely glad that he had Sirius and Remus as parental figures, even if Sirius sometimes acted like a five year old. He didn't know what he'd do without them.

"I don't want to fail again," Harry answered honestly. "I feel like I have to impress him, to do better than he thinks that I can. I don't want him to be able to say that I failed."

He didn't know where this sudden desire to impress Professor Snape had come from, but it had gnawed at him incessantly after Harry had agreed to go through with the Occlumency lessons. It was like a burning passion. He was going to prove Snape wrong and show him that he was able to do it.

Already, with some help from Hermione, Harry had looked into Occlumency. He'd read through books, essays, theories…anything he could've used to prepare himself.

He was going to prove Snape wrong and master Occlumency if it killed him.

Well…figuratively.

"I don't think you'll fail, Harry," Remus said, pulling Harry out of his reverie. "As long as you push yourself and do what Professor Snape tells you, you'll do fine."

"Thanks, Remus," Harry said, smiling up at him. "I needed to hear that."

"Like I keep telling you, Harry, it's what I'm here for." Remus smiled and reached out to playfully ruffle Harry's hair.

"And like I keep telling _you_, Moony, you're here to keep me satisfied," Sirius said, coming into the sitting room with a huge smile on his face.

"Honestly, Padfoot, you have the libido of a seventeen-year-old," Remus said with an exasperated sigh, though Harry could see his eyes lit up when he saw Sirius.

"I never hear you complaining," Sirius said cockily, sitting down beside Remus and kissing his cheek. "What do you say we go upstairs? We can use handcuffs." Sirius' eyes were sparkling with mischief, which let Harry know just how serious – no pun intended – he was on using said handcuffs.

"Dear Merlin, did you forget that I was in the room?" Harry groaned, covering his face with his hands.

"Oh, hello there, Harry," Sirius said, as If he hadn't noticed Harry sprawled out in front of the couch on the floor.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Honestly, can you keep it in your trousers until I leave?"

"Oh, that's right! The brat leaves tomorrow. Think about all the fun we could have, Moony! I can shag you on the kitchen table!"

Remus rolled his eyes and watched as his mate continued to torture their godson with all kinds of erotic situations, laughing quietly at the look on Harry's face.

While he was going to enjoy some alone time with Sirius, he felt that Grimmauld Place just wouldn't be the same without Harry. When Sirius had his name cleared and they had taken custody of Harry, Grimmauld Place had gone from a depressing, claustrophobic crypt to an actual home.

He smiled fondly as Harry and Sirius started to wrestle with one another of the floor, taking care to move his feet when they rolled his way.

He had been so worried about Harry after the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. Harry had changed after that day. He had grown more inverted, more wary of people he didn't know. When they'd had the Weasleys and Hermione at Grimmauld Place in July, Harry seemed to cling to Hermione and Ron, as if he were afraid that they would disappear if he let them out of his sight.

Remus was sure that Harry didn't even realise that he was doing it, because he did the same with Sirius and himself. Whenever either he or Sirius had to step out of the house, no matter what for, Harry would walk them to the door and make them promise to come home safe, not letting them leave until he was satisfied.

A sixteen year old shouldn't have to worry about his friends and family like that, Remus thought, moving his feet once again as Sirius and Harry barreled into the couch. A sixteen year old should be worrying about Quidditch and passing their NEWTS and boyfriends and girlfriends and career choices… Not that their family and friends or even themselves could very well not even live to see the next day because of a sadistic psychopath hell-bent on killing them.

'_Lily, James, if you can see Harry, I hope you're proud of him. I know that I am._'

* * *

Whoever designed Platform 9 and ¾ should be drawn and quartered for not making it larger, Harry decided as he and his guardians tried to get through the crowd. It didn't help that there were reported everywhere trying to get a statement from him, which only added to his irritation.

Already, three different reporters had asked him what had happened in the Departments of Mysteries, and if he knew Voldemort's whereabouts. They then decided to interrogate Sirius, who had froze up and looked panicked, as if he were afraid he'd say the wrong thing. He looked absolutely terrified.

It took everything Harry had not to hex them into oblivion.

Instead, he'd grabbed the hem of Sirius' shirt and pulled him away from them, looking around for Ron or Hermione.

Harry audibly sighed in relief when he caught sight of the trademark fiery red hair of the Weasleys, feeling better already. There were only four of them this year, Ron, Ginny, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Fred and George were busy running their shop in Diagon Alley, and Harry was guessing the other Weasley brothers were at their respective jobs as well.

Mrs. Weasley was trying to sort through Ron and Ginny's things last minute, as she did every year, her face turning a beet red colour as she became more and more flustered.

"And Ron, did you-? Oh, you did. Ginny, you have-? Good, good. And- Oh! Harry dear!" she cried when she caught sight of him, waving at him.

Ginny and Ron turned, smiling and waving at him. "Hey, mate!" Ron called, giving Harry a slap on the back when he came closer. Ginny smiled and gave him a hug, flushing somewhat, and Mrs. Weasley gave him a slightly sloppy kiss on the cheek.

"Where's 'Mione?" Harry asked.

"Already on the train with Neville," Ron said. "They have prefect duties again this year."

Harry nodded, feeling that there was something missing with Hermione standing there with him. He could tell Ron and Ginny felt the same way. It always made them uncomfortable when someone was missing. Of course, they had always had good reason for that train of thought.

"How was the rest of your summer, Harry?" Ginny asked him, drawing his thoughts away from Hermione.

"Better than last summer," Harry said with a wry grin. "No court hearings, dementors, or Patronus charms needed."

Ginny and Ron laughed, but Harry knew that they were all secretly relieved inside. It had been a pretty normal summer, compared to the last five.

"Did you two get any letters from reporters?" Harry asked.

"I think we did," Ron said, "but once we saw who it was from we just threw them out. Didn't even bother to read them."

"I got one from Rita Skeeter a few weeks ago. I opened it because I thought it was something from Hogwarts. It had the seal and everything. That crazy bint," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "Asked me if you and I were going to run away and get married."

"What?" Harry's eyes widened comically. "She asked if we were getting married?" He knew that not very many people were aware that he was gay, but that was still a little ridiculous.

"Yeah, mate, Gin showed me the letter and everything."

"You'd think after the Triwizard Tournament, she would've learned her lesson," Harry muttered darkly. Ron and Ginny nodded, their conversation blissfully ignored by the adults.

Sirius and Remus, who had been following behind Harry at a more sedated pace, though Harry was sure it was more of Remus dragging Sirius along, finally joined them.

"Hey, Sirius, Remus," Ron said, smiling at them.

"Hello, Ron," Remus said, keeping his arm tight around Sirius' waist. After being locked up for so long, Sirius found the crowd a little overwhelming and kept looking around like the Aurors were coming to arrest him at any moment. He waved vaguely at the Weasleys.

Ron and Ginny looked at Harry, their gazes questioning. He mouthed, "Later" to them, to which they nodded and proceeded to start getting their luggage on the train.

"Do you have everything, Harry?" Remus asked, just to placate Mrs. Weasley, who looked like she was going to ask the same question.

"Yeah. And if I don't you'll just mail it to me, right?"

"Right, cub," Remus said, smiling. "Come on; let's get you all on the train."

Once they had piled everyone's luggage on the train, Mrs. Weasley gave them all her customary warnings of how she expected good behaviour from the three of them and gave them each a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Remus ruffled Ron's hair and gave Ginny and Harry hugs, while Sirius bear hugged all three of them. He held on especially tight to Harry, whispering, "Be safe, pup. Don't go looking for trouble or anything, alright? Do that for me."

"I will, Sirius, I promise."

What was left unsaid, of course, was that Harry went looking for trouble. Trouble always found Harry.

* * *

_I know that was kind of short, but I feel like I owed you guys a chapter after having gone away for so long. So, here it is. Next chapter will be the first week at Hogwarts and the start of Occlumency lessons. Who's excited? Read, review, send love, the whole sha-bang. Love and kisses and Nutella to you all._


	4. Chapter 4

_**New Perspective (Or the New-Found Adoration of Severus Snape)**_

**Chapter Four- The Student Becomes the Master**

_Rating: M_

_A/N: I'm so, so, so, so very sorry it has taken this long to get my ass in gear to write this. I've been sick and icky and just not in the mood to write anything, and the only thing I could even think about writing was the one-shot I posted the other day. And my English teacher is making us write this ridiculous essay, so it's kind of killed whatever happy writing mood I may have been in. So, to make up for not writing, I decided to crank out this chapter and make it extra long for you guys. I may or may not get around to popping out another for ISWAW, since I know many of you read that too. My sister is having friends over this weekend, so I think I'll be the perfect time for me to duck into my room with my mum's computer and write. Once again, I sincerely apologise to you all for being so lazy. *kowtows*_

_"Drumming Song" by Florence & the Machine and "Cough Syrup" by Young the Giant wrote this chapter._

_*listens to her lawyer tell her she does not own Harry Potter or his friends* "Do you under-" *kills her lawyer and disposes of the body*_

* * *

"Dumbledore's making you take Occlumency again this year?" Ron asked Harry once they were settled down in a compartment.

Hermione and Neville, fresh from their prefects' duties, had just joined Harry, Ron, and Ginny, and they were all curious to hear about his upcoming Occlumency lessons.

"Yeah. He thinks that Vol- sorry Ron, You-Know-Who may be manipulating my memories," Harry explained, feeling somewhat pathetic that he couldn't even defend his mind from Voldemort.

"It makes sense," Hermione said, nodding her head. "I mean, if he could plant images in your mind that made you think he had Sirius, why couldn't he manipulate your mind that way as well?"

Harry nodded, a pit forming in his stomach. He must've looked upset, because Ginny put a comforting hand on his knee. "It's alright, Harry. It's not your fault that Voldemort can get into your mind." Everyone in the compartment except Harry flinched at Ginny's nonchalant use of Voldemort's name. "You just have to work hard to protect yourself." She smiled kindly at him.

"Thanks, Ginny," Harry said, feeling slightly better. "I'm just afraid that Snape and I may end up killing one another."

"Greasy git," Ron said darkly.

"He's not that bad, Ronald," Hermione admonished. She swatted at Ron's head painfully, missing the brief jealous look that flashed across Neville's face.

Harry and Ginny saw it, however, and smiled at one another discreetly. They'd known that Neville had fancied Hermione for a long time. Maybe he'd work up the nerve to ask her out this year.

"Don't you have private lessons with Dumbledore this year as well?" Neville asked Harry once Hermione and Ron had quit bickering.

"No," Harry said, rubbing at the back of his neck absently. "He thinks it'll be best if we make Voldemort think that we aren't planning anything."

Ron grimaced at the use of the name, but said nothing.

They were silent after that, none of them quite sure where the conversation should go. They only resumed speaking when they heard the cries of "Anything from the trolley?"

"Can you get me a pack of licorice wands, Harry?" Ginny asked, handing him the appropriate amount of money for the sweets. "Make that two, actually."

Harry nodded and popped his head out of the compartment, handing the elderly witch a few Sickles and taking the candy with a smile and a quiet "Thank you." He gave the sweets to Ginny, who immediately offered some to the others.

"So, what was up with Sirius on the platform, Harry?" Ginny asked, taking a bite of her licorice and chewing it thoughtfully.

"Some reporters thought it would be a good idea to gang up on him after they didn't get any answers from me," Harry said, his tone hard. "He might be a free man again, but he's still afraid that he's going to get carted off to Azkaban for the littlest thing."

"Poor Padfoot," Hermione said, frowning sympathetically. "It's understandable, though. He's spent so long on the run."

"Yeah," Ron said, his mouth full of candy. "Can' blame him 'oor 'at."

"Ronald, must I remind you that it's rude to speak with your mouth full?" Hermione admonished, with Ginny making a sound in agreement.

Ron swallowed, and said, "Sorry, _Mum._"

"Your manners are deplorable," Ginny sniffed.

Neville sniggered, earning him a glare from Ron.

"Come on, mate, you're supposed to be on _my _side! We're men! We're supposed to have bad manners!"

"Just because you're male does not mean you're allowed to have terrible manners," Hermione said. "Neville has impeccable manners." Then, realising what she said, Hermione flushed a pretty pink, looking anywhere but at Neville.

Neville was blushing too, staring at his shoes so he didn't meet Hermione's eye. Ron, being his oblivious self, missed the awkward silence between his two friends and continued lamenting on his tirade about men and their apparent "rights of bad manners".

Harry rolled his eyes and took another licorice wand from Ginny, shooting her a wink. Ginny smirked back at him, whispered, "They're so into one another." He nodded, grinning.

Clearing her throat, Hermione began arguing with Ron once again, and the compartment went back to its normal. Harry leaned his head back against the seat and smiled at his friends' antics, Occlumency and Dumbledore being pushed into the back of his mind for now.

* * *

He must've fallen asleep somewhere between listening to Hermione and Ron argue and Ginny side-commenting, because night had fallen when Ginny shook his shoulder to tell him that they were almost to Hogwarts.

He rolled his shoulders and yawned, still feeling a bit tired, but excited. Even though he lived with Sirius and had a real home now, Hogwarts had always been his first home, through the good and the bad times.

He shrugged into his robes, stifling another yawn. Hermione and Neville bid them farewell and slipped out of the compartment, saying they'd catch up with the rest of them during the Sorting ceremony. He noticed that Hermione's cheeks were still a little pink and Neville wasn't quite meeting her eyes when he spoke to her.

It was so painfully obvious that they had it bad for one another. Even Ron, the King of Oblivion, couldn't miss it.

Harry followed Ginny and Ron out onto the platform where the carriages were waiting, climbing in after them.

"I would say that I hope this will be a relatively normal year and that nothing insane will happen," Ginny said, straightening her robes, "but then I have to remind myself that I'm going to school with the Boy-Who-Lived." She smiled at him, letting him know that she said it in jest.

He smiled apologetically. "Unfortunately, I'm a walking danger magnet."

"Funny, that's what the Nargles said," a dreamy voice said, which was followed by one Luna Lovegood climbing into the carriage with them. "Hello everyone."

"Hey, Luna," they said in unison, smiling at their rather odd friend. Harry noticed that Ginny's smile was radiant when she looked at the blonde girl, and found it interesting. He'd have to ask Ginny about that later.

"Luna, you're not wearing your necklace," Ginny said.

"No. Daddy said the good luck had worn off," Luna said in her matter-of-fact way. Her blue eyes were dreamy and faraway as ever. "I'll get a new one as soon as he makes one for me. How was your summer, Harry?" She turned to him and smiled disarmingly.

"It was a good summer, Luna. And yours?"

"Very interesting. Daddy and I went hunting for Crumpled-Horn Snorkacks and we discovered a new species of Flitterwibbets," she said. Ron made a noise of disbelief that he had to grace to cover with a cough. "Do you have a cold, Ronald? Maybe you should stay away from the Wrackspurts."

"I'll make sure to do that, Luna, thanks," he said, blushing slightly.

They chatted for a few minutes with Luna about this new species she and her father had found, none of them willing enough to tell the girl that these probably weren't real species, until the carriages began moving towards the castle.

"I do hope there's pudding," Luna said, making them giggle.

When they entered the Great Hall, they said goodbye to Luna and sat down at the Gryffindor table, greeting Dean and Seamus, who moved aside to make room for them.

"Hey, Harry," Seamus said. "How was your summer? Heard you live with your godfather now."

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I live with Sirius, and it's great." He smiled.

The Gryffindors began their custom of greeting one another, asking how their summers went, etc., when Neville and Hermione, both wearing their prefects' badges, joined them, smiling and laughing.

Seamus elbowed Dean in the ribs and motioned discreetly with his head towards the two of them, smiling slightly at the way they leaned in towards one another, as if sharing a private joke. Thinly veiled comments about a new romance blooming in Gryffindor were made, but Hermione and Neville were oblivious to it.

The Sorting ceremony went quickly, as did the feast, and Harry was looking forward to lying down and getting some sleep.

He smiled when he and Ron entered their dorm, heading for his four-poster bed and stripping out of his robes and clothes, and pulling on his pajamas.

"Tired, mate?" Ron asked, shedding his robes as well.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I know I slept on the train, but I feel like I haven't slept at all," he said, biting back a yawn.

"I'll tell everyone else to keep it down, yeah? Get some sleep, mate. I'll see you in the morning."

"G'night, Ron," Harry said, slipping into bed slowly and closing his curtains. He took his glasses off and set them on his nightstand before putting his head on his pillow and closing his eyes.

"_Harry… Harry, come to Mumma."_

_He could hear her voice and feel her presence. She was right in front of him, her green eyes dancing in the light, her smile radiant. Her long auburn hair fell in waves around her face. She looked healthy, alive. How he pictured she would look if he had ever met her._

_She was so beautiful._

"_Mum," he whispered._

"_That's right, Harry," she said, her voice warm and loving. "It's me. Come to me. Let me look at you, my handsome boy. I'm so proud of you. Of everything you've done. Come to me, love."_

_Obediently, Harry took a step forward, holding out a hand to her. She had her arms open, as if to embrace him. He slipped into her arms, setting his head on her shoulder, relishing in the warmth she was radiating. He felt so safe, so protected, so _warm…

"_This is what you want, isn't it, Harry?" Lily asked, running a hand over Harry's hair softly. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak._

_She continued running her hand over his hair, stroking it, soothing him. He felt some weight lifted off of his shoulders. He felt so-_

_Suddenly, her hand dug itself into his hair and jerked his head back. He looked at her in horror and saw that her eyes were no longer green, but red._

_Like Voldemort's eyes._

"_It's your fault I died," Lily said coldly, her grip tightening painfully. "I could've lived. You were supposed to die. Only you."_

_The arm she had wrapped around him tightened viciously, cutting off his air. He felt tears begin to form in his eyes, thought he couldn't tell if they were from sadness or pain._

_He couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe, couldn't-_

"Harry, mate, wake up."

_She barred her teeth at him, her teeth sharp white fangs. "Your fault," she repeated. "Your fault, your fault, your fault-"_

"Harry!"

Harry's eyes flew open and he grabbed his wand reflexively, pointing it at whoever was hovering over him at the moment. His heart was racing and his vision was blurry, and he was distressed to find there were tears running down his face.

"It's Ron! Put your damn wand down!"

Blinking rapidly, Harry felt around for his glasses and slid them on, finding himself looking up at one very distressed-looking Ronald Weasley.

"Nightmare," Ron said grimly. "You kept saying 'my fault'."

Harry nodded, wiping away his tears miserably. "It was my mum. She said it was my fault."

"But it's not, mate," Ron said, casting a silencing charm around Harry's bed. "You can't be held responsible for her death, or your dad's."

Harry nodded. He knew that. It didn't make the accusation hurt any less, though.

"Look, mate, get back to sleep, alright? You look like hell."

"That makes me feel loads better," Harry said, rolling his eyes and taking his glasses off, settling back into bed.

"S'what I'm here for," Ron said, sounding eerily like Remus. He slid off of Harry's bed and went back to his own, lifting the silencing charm as he did so. Before Harry closed his eyes again, he thought he heard Ron say, "Maybe those Occlumency lessons aren't such a bad idea after all."

* * *

The first day of classes flew by for Harry. He'd had Double Transfiguration, Charms, and Herbology, and already he had a mountain of homework. He felt as if all of the professors, McGonagall especially, were deliberately trying to make this year hell already.

When he'd complained about this to Hermione, she'd only looked at him and said, "Harry, this is the year we prepare for our N.E.W.T.S. What else did you expect?"

He probably should've been glad that he hadn't had Potions on the first day, though he had it the third day due to some scheduling issue. _That _was definitely going to be hell. Snape was going to have a field day humiliating him in class this year, not to mention during Occlumency lessons. He still had no idea when those were supposed to begin.

He walked into Potions class the third morning, feeling a bubble of dread build up in his stomach. He had a feeling this particular class was going to be terrible.

"Come on, Harry," Hermione said, grabbing his arm and steering him towards their seats. "Just try not to get on his bad side this early in the year, alright?"

Harry nodded, feeling a twinge in his head as he did so. He'd woken up with a headache, though it hadn't been that bad. He felt it slowly getting worse, but he was determined not to let it show. He pressed a finger to his temple, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure.

Professor Snape swooped into the classroom about ten seconds later, glaring at everyone as he made his way to the front of the room.

He eyed them all with distaste, even the Slytherins, which gave Harry a bit of hope. Maybe this year he'd ream everyone, not just his house.

"I hope that you all had the sense to realise this year will _not_ be easy," Snape said in his soft voice. "This year will be to prepare you for your seventh year exams, and I will _not_ have a problem throwing out any of you dunderheads that treat my class as a joke. Any of you."

Harry felt Snape's soul-piercing gaze fall on him for a millisecond before moving on to Neville, who actually didn't look frightened for once.

"You will have until the end of class to complete this potion," Snape said, turning and waving his wand at the blackboard. His spidery handwriting appeared, which hurt Harry's head to even look at. "Begin."

Harry followed Hermione to the ingredients closet and grabbed whatever she had, knowing that Hermione was perfectly capable of reading Snape's handwriting.

When he started chopping up whatever root he needed for this potion, he felt another twinge in his head, much more painful than the last. He grit his teeth, trying to ignore it.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Just a bit of a headache," he said, barely managing to keep from wincing as there was another wave of pain.

Hermione looked at him doubtfully, but he continued chopping and adding it to his cauldron, so she went back to her own work, which was looking much better than Harry's, as usual.

As Harry started to grab for another ingredient, his head began to pound so violently that he had to grab the table in front of him to keep himself upright. His eyes watered and he shut them tightly, trying not to fall over.

"Harry, you need to get to work," Hermione whispered urgently, low enough for only him to hear.

Harry shook his head and looked down at the supplies in front of him, feeling as if he were going to collapse then and there. He couldn't, though. Not in Snape's class.

'_Please, just wait until I get out of here. Please, please, please.'_

"Harry?" Hermione prodded again, dragging him out of his mental chanting. Her voice was tight with worry. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"It's just a headache, 'Mione." One that was probably going to kill him if he didn't get some pain reliever. He didn't feel the need to add on that last part.

Hermione put down her knife and looked at him with concern. "Harry, you look awfully pale-"

"I'm fine, honestly," he said, his voice sounded small and fuzzy to him. Everything started sounding fuzzy and there will little dots swimming in his vision. "I'll be-"

"What are you doing, Potter?"

Harry wanted to groan when he heard Snape's voice, but he knew that the action would only land him in detention or some other form of trouble. So, he grit his teeth and ground out, "I'm working on my potion, sir."

"Really? It seems to me as if you are sitting by idly and chatting with Ms. Granger."

Hermione, bless her, interjected, saying, "Professor, I think Harry's sick-"

Snape turned to her, his black eyes piercing. "Ten points from Gryffindor, Ms. Granger, for speaking out of turn."

Harry's eyes burned from the effort of keeping them open and his head felt as if it was going to explode, and he couldn't help but snapping out, "Do you get off on being such a prick?"

The room went silent, potions forgotten, all eyes on Snape, who was radiating fury, and Harry, who looked as if he were about to fall over.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor, Potter, and you'll be serving a deten-"

Before Snape could finish delivering his punishment, Harry's head erupted into a splitting pain, causing him to sway. He reached out and grabbed Snape's arm, trying to hold himself upright. Tears of pain fell out of his eyes before the world went blissfully black.

* * *

When Harry woke up, he was unsurprised to find himself in the infirmary.

He was surprised, however, to find Professor Snape standing over him, looking at him with indifference.

"I see you're finally awake, Potter," he said softly.

Harry wanted to nod, but there was a dull ache in his head, so he thought that may not be such a good idea. Instead, he said, "Sorry about calling you a prick, sir. Kind of slipped out." His throat felt dry and thick, and he really needed a glass of water.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "In this case, I am grudgingly prepared to forgive you for your insolence, Potter," he said, taking Harry by surprise. "However, you will still be serving a detention this Friday."

"Yes, sir," he said, closing his eyes again. "I had another nightmare, sir, two days ago. Could this be related in any way?"

"It may be," Professor Snape said. "But until you begin your Occlumency lessons, I am unsure."

"When are they going to begin?"

"This Friday, under the pretext of a detention," Professor Snape said, sounding somewhat unhappy.

"I'm sorry that you have to teach me Occlumency instead of torturing me by making me clean out cauldrons," Harry said, opening his eyes again and looking at his Potions professor. "I know how much you enjoy doing that."

To his utmost surprise, Snape smirked at the comment. "Oh, you have no idea, Potter." With that, Snape turned and strode out of the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey came out of her office with a potion in hand.

"Here you are, dear. It's a Headache Reliever. You should feel right as rain after you drink it," the mediwitch said. She handed it to Harry and watched as he drank it. "I swear, young man, I may or may not have to get you your own bed. You're in here often enough."

Harry smiled at her, all of the pain in his head easing. "I'll try to keep myself out of here for the next week or two."

"There's a good boy," Madame Pomfrey said, motioning for him to stand up. "You can go now. It's dinner time. I better not see you in here for the next month."

"No promises, ma'am," he said, grabbing his bag and smiling at her as he left.

When he entered the Great Hall, everyone stopped to stare at him, which he figured would happen. He ignored the stares and whispers with practiced ease and sat down next to Hermione, who smiled at him.

"Feeling better now, Harry?" Ron asked.

"Yeah," he said, grabbing a plate and filling it with food. "What happened after I passed out?"

"Well," Hermione said, taking a sip of her pumpkin juice. "Professor Snape carried you out of the classroom to the hospital wing."

"He did _what_?"

"Carried you. When you passed out, you fell against him and he just scooped you up and carried you out, threatening us with all sorts of torture methods if we misbehaved before he got back," Ron said after he swallowed his large mouthful of food. "It was kind of odd, actually."

"What was he supposed to do? Drag Harry there?" Hermione asked, rolling her eyes.

Harry, ignoring their bickering, stared down at his food for a moment, unsure of what to think. _Snape_ had actually carried him to the hospital wing? He hadn't realised the man was capable of actions such as that, especially for him, who Snape claimed to hate with a fiery passion.

"I think Dumbledore told Sirius and Remus about you fainting, by the way," Hermione told him, making him groan.

"They'll send me a Howler," he said, covering his face with his hand. "Or they'll come here themselves. Or do something stupid."

* * *

Remus and Sirius didn't send a Howler or come to Hogwarts in person, but they did send him a letter that basically told him he was grounded for life if he went to the hospital wing again and didn't tell them himself.

Harry rolled his eyes when he read the letter, knowing that they only said that because they cared.

The rest of the week passed relatively quickly, and so did the story of how Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, fainted in Potions class due to a headache. Honestly, you'd think people who have something better to talk about.

Snape ignored him in class on Friday, which made it easier for Harry to concentrate and finish his potion on time and correctly. He left the flask on Snape's desk with a satisfied smirk, knowing full well that it would irritate his professor.

Around seven o'clock, Harry left the common room with the cries of "Good luck" from his housemates following him as he went through the portrait hole. No matter who it was, they always wished one another luck when a lion had a detention in the dungeons.

He walked rather quickly to Snape's office, not wanting to be late so the man could add that to a list of growing reasons to hate him. He stood outside the door a few moments, swallowing his fear and uncertainty before knocking on the door lightly.

"_Enter._"

* * *

_Now, how's that for a cliffy? Whew. This was so long to write. I watched Rocky Horror Picture Show before writing this. It was inspiring. I never realised how orgasmic Tim Curry was when he was younger. Hm. Oh well. I'm so tired. It's almost one in the morning. My sister's friends got cake all over my tub and sink in my own personal bathroom, and she doesn't understand why I'm pissed. I don't like these girls. And neither does my cat, Sonny. That's reason enough to hate them. Anyway, read, review, send love. The whole sha-bang. Love and kisses and Nutella to you all._


	5. Chapter 5

_**New Perspective (Or the New-Found Adoration of Severus Snape)**_

_**Chapter Five- Occlumency**_

_A/N: *peers tentatively around the corner at you all* Heh heh… Hey, guys. I know it's been…well over a month since I last updated for this story and I am really, really, really, really, really sorry. *kowtows* Désolée! After I got the last chapter up, I had no idea what I was going to do with this, so I kind of pushed it into the back of my mind and forgot about it. And then when I would go to write, Life, the big ol' bitch she is, decided to say, "You want to write? Haha. Fuck you." I have been trying guys, I really have. And I'm really sorry. On the plus side, I know exactly how I want this story to end. I even have the last three or so chapters planned out. The problem is the middle part and everything else leading up to that…. So… Yeah. Wish me luck. I'm sorry this one will be a little short, but it'll cover what I've been meaning to write for the past month. _

"_The Scientist" by Coldplay and "Bittersweet" by Ellie Goulding wrote this chapter._

_My lawyer seems to have mysteriously disappeared, but he tells me that I do not actually own Harry and Severus and all of their buddies. Too bad. _

* * *

For a moment, Harry contemplated turning around and running back to the Gryffindor common room. A pit had formed in his stomach and his hands were sweaty. He was suddenly terrified.

_**Terrified of what?**_ Harry had never hated that little voice in the back of his mind more than he did now.

'_I'm going to fail. He's going to kill me. Or make my life miserable. I won't be able to do it.'_

_**If you keep talking like that, you won't. Get in there, you arse.**_

Harry noticed that the voice sounded remarkably like both Hermione and Remus in some bizarre, harmonised way. Maybe he was going crazy, after all. He sighed and shook his head, trying his best not to completely freak out.

Harry stared at the wooden door and swallowed nervously before stepping into the office.

It was just as dark and gloomy as he had seen the year before, with the various bits of dead creatures and plants floating about in jars on the shelves and the Pensieve sitting on a table. Harry shivered slightly.

The sound of a quill scratching against parchment made him look in the direction of Snape's desk, where the Potions master sat, probably marking essays from his classes. His look of sheer exasperation tinged with anger answered Harry's question.

"Erm, good evening…sir," Harry said, adding the _sir_ on as an afterthought. He hoped that Snape hadn't noticed.

"I will be with you in just a moment, Potter," Snape said, not looking up from his work. He continued scratching things out and scribbling some more, and Harry pitied the poor student whose essay Snape was marking now. They were in for it, judging by the amount of scratching.

Harry stood there awkwardly for a few moments while Professor Snape finished, not sure if he should sit down or not. He didn't want to overstep his bounds in the Potions master's office, knowing full well that Snape wouldn't hesitate to hex him if he did something stupid.

"Are you ready to begin, Potter?"

The Professor's surprisingly soft voice made Harry jump and nod nervously. "Ready as I'll ever be," he murmured.

Snape nodded and laid his quill on top of the neatly stacked pile of essays that were sitting in front of him. "Sit," he ordered, summoning a chair with a lazy flick of his wand. Harry did as he said, noticing that his hands were trembling.

'_Calm down!'_ he told himself, trying to get a grip before Snape had a chance to see how nervous he was. If Snape saw that he was nervous, he'd use it as an excuse to ridicule and belittle him, because he was a petty git and had nothing better to do. Harry was _not_ going to give him the excuse to do that.

He could do this. He knew he could.

"Are you quite finished, Potter?" Snape drawled, making him jump once more. Snape was standing in front of him with his arms crossed, one eyebrow raised.

"I'm sorry, sir?"

"You were muttering to yourself, Potter. If I were anyone else I would've thought you'd lost your mind," Snape remarked, shaking his head and going to the Pensieve.

"Can't lose what you didn't have in the first place," Harry muttered, sighing.

He heard an odd sort of choking sound, like someone trying to hold in a laugh. He looked over at Snape, whose face was devoid of any emotion. He shrugged it off.

"Empty your mind, Potter," Snape ordered, turning to face him and raising his wand. "I'm going to enter your mind, and you will push me out. Understood?"

"Yes sir," Harry said, already focusing on clearing his mind. He knew, from the previous year's Occlumency lessons, that he was generally ruled by his emotions, so he fought those back while trying to get rid of any lingering thoughts. He could do this.

He was focusing so hard he didn't hear Snape say, "_Legilimens._"

He did, however, feel Snape enter his mind, his presence like a slight, uncomfortable buzz. Harry tired to pinpoint Snape's exact location in his mind, but before he could-

_Snape was gliding through his memories like they were water. He passed by the memory of his horrible kiss with Cho Chang. The day Sirius' name had been cleared. The Prophecy. Voldemort's red eyes blazing as he tried to kill Harry. Remus and Sirius in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place. Hermione and Neville blushing. The Burrow. Cedric smiling at him-_

Harry's mind closed off when Snape reached those memories, hidden behind an invisible metal bar Harry pictured when he thought of closing Snape out. Snape was_ not _going to see any of his memories of Cedric. No one would _ever _see those.

Slowly, he felt Snape backtrack and then exit his mind. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, slumping forward in his seat slightly. He felt liquid trickle from his nose. A nosebleed, probably.

"An admirable first attempt, Mr. Potter," Snape said, his tone grudging. He was looking at Harry with an unreadable expression. "But I should not have been able to get as far into your mind as I did. You must put up the shields the very second I enter your mind."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, nodding. He winced, noticing that the action made his head ache.

"Again."

* * *

"Again!"

_Snape pressed lightly on the middle of the bar, testing for a possible hole that would allow him through. He pressed harder and felt his hand sink through. He smirked and entered Potter's mind without any hesitation. _

"Damn it!" Harry cursed. They had been at this the better part of an hour, and Snape had managed to find a way in every single time. "I don't understand!"

"I expect that it may come as a shock to you, Potter, but you are not automatically an expert at everything," Snape said with a sneer. "Despite what the media seems to tell you."

"I never said I was an expert!" Harry shot back, exasperated. "I really am trying, here. I don't understand what I'm doing wrong!"

"So it would seem." Snape crossed his arms, an ugly look on his face. "It also seems that you lack the mental capacity to perform such an intricate art."

"I'm not stupid, Professor," Harry said angrily. The man in front of him was quickly wearing down his nerves, and he felt as though he might snap at any moment. He didn't understand what he was doing wrong, and it looked as if Snape was not about to explain it to him.

The whole thing was very frustrating to Harry, who was simply trying to become better at something that he obviously needed to learn.

"You are an idiot, boy," Snape snapped, standing up straight. "Lazy and incompetent, just like your father. You're so wrapped up in your arrogance and fame that you care little for anything else. You bask in the attention the media gives you. I bet you just _love _the spotlight, don't you, Potter?"

"I am nothing like my father!" Harry shouted, jumping to his feet.

The office grew tense with silence until Snape, who was glaring at Harry, whispered, "Excuse me, _Potter_?"

"I said: I am nothing like my father," Harry repeated angrily, his eyes flashing. "I'm not James fucking Potter. How can I be like him, when I've never even fucking met him? I don't want to be famous Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Fucking-Lived! I lost my mum and dad because of it! I've got a deranged psychopath trying to kill me every time I fucking walk down the street, and people are dying because of it!" Harry was screaming at this point, but he didn't care. This man had been making his life hell since he was eleven, and he wasn't taking it anymore.

He could feel his magic, building up from the pit of his stomach, threatening to lash out at everything in the nearest vicinity, like a sheer force of nature. The jars on the shelves began to shake, and his hair began to whip around his head as he continued to shout at Professor Snape, who had been silent this entire time.

"I come close to losing everyone that I care about on a daily basis, and I already lost the one person who meant more than fucking life to me! So don't you dare compare me to my father! I don't know how to prove to you that I'm not him! I'm not my father! I'm just Harry! No one else!"

Harry turned away from Professor Snape, his eyes filling up with tears, cutting his magic off. The office was silent once more.

"I should be strong enough to protect myself and my friends from Voldemort," he said quietly, his voice breaking, taking a deep breath to keep from crying. "But I'm not. I wasn't strong enough to protect Cedric, and I nearly lost Sirius because of my stupidity. I'm not an idiot, and I'm not a bully. I have my stupid moments, but what teenage boy doesn't?"

He wiped his eyes angrily on his sleeve and made his way to the door, grabbing the handle and yanking it open harshly. "So you know what, Professor Snape? Fuck you. Just _fuck you._"

He resisted the urge to give the man the bird as he slammed the door shut behind him.

* * *

He managed to make it back to the Gryffindor tower without running into anyone, which he was thankful for. He didn't know if he could explain his appearance – red, watery eyes, disheveled hair and clothes – to anyone, let alone what he was doing wandering the halls.

The Fat Lady took one look at him before swinging open without asking for the password. "Poor dear…" he heard her mutter as he clambered in.

The common room was practically deserted, expect for Hermione, Neville, and Ron, who were sitting in front of the fire, obviously waiting up for him.

"I hope he's alright," Hermione was saying as he approached them. "I know he was really worried about these lessons, and Snape can't have made them easy for him. He's been trying so- Harry!" She jumped up and smiled, the happy look sliding off her face when she saw the expression on his. Without asking, she opened her arms to him, which he sank into gratefully. He rested his face on her shoulder, breathing in the scent of her vanilla and lavender perfume for comfort.

"Do you want to talk about it, mate?" Ron asked quietly.

The kindness in his voice made Harry's eyes water again, and he shook his head as a sob racked his body.

* * *

_So, that chapter was kind of depressing for me to write. I'm sorry if the part with the actual Occlumency was horrible. I'm pants at writing stuff like that. Anyway, I apologise for the long wait. Read, review, send love. Love and Kisses and Nutella to you all!_


	6. Chapter 6

_**New Perspective (Or the New-Found Adoration of Severus Snape)**_

_**Chapter **__Six- Dramatic Exits_

_A/N: So, who about had a heart attack when they saw that I updated? I know I nearly did when I hit the 'post chapter' button. It was an inspiring moment. Now, without any further ado, I have some thank you's to give out. Drum roll please... To __**PotionsPhoenix**__, __**LaPirataAna**__, __**Thatsallwegot**__, __**Azrael Jinsei,**__**Skyblue A**__, and __**DarkSnakeLordess**__, you all have my deepest thank you a well wishes for reviewing for every chapter so far. Your words of praise and love help me get out of bed in the morning. (That is an exaggeration, but whatever.) I now present you all with a virtual, infinite supply of Nutella and bacon (sorry if you're a vegetarian...weirdoes) and a Ring Pop of your chosen flavour. If you know that you have reviewed every chapter so far, fear not. I probably missed you while scrolling through my e-mails. Every review that is sent to me is loved with a fiery passion. Believe me. It makes my day when my inbox explodes with reviews and follows. Before I continue on with my disclaimer and then chapter playlist, if there is a reader who logs in as a guest under the name __**Chase Bloodmire**__, please PM me. I found a review you sent to me for the old New Perspective, right before I rewrote it, and I absolutely loved it. Please, please PM me. I wish to send you a very long and probably very tedious thank you for your extremely kind and funny and touching words._

_"Turning Tables" by Adele, "Bother" by Stone Sour, and "Do You Hear the People Singing?" from Les Misérables wrote this chappie._

_So, my lawyer came back. Damn Inferi._

* * *

Harry and Hermione sat in the common room for a very long while, well into the early hours of the morning, Hermione stroking Harry's hair and letting him stare off into space or cry or whatever it was he needed to do. Ron and Neville had gone to bed hours ago.

"I don't know why I'm reacting like this," Harry said finally, around half one. His voice was rough and gravelly, the sobbing having taken a toll on his throat.

"Because you're tired of him not seeing you as you," Hermione said, pressing a kiss to his temple. "You're tired of him seeing you as Harry Potter, James Potter's son, the Boy-Who-Lived. That's what everyone else sees you as."

"Except you and the others," Harry muttered. "I don't know why I expected him to understand that I'm not who he thinks I am." He sighed, his throat tightening when he thought of the dumbstruck look on Snape's while he was shouting at him.

"I can't explain why he would say such hurtful things, Harry," Hermione said. "But I can tell you that I know that you aren't a spoiled, snotty bully. You're the kindest, most giving person I've ever met. If anyone has the excuse to be cruel and hateful, it's you." She slid her arms around his shoulders, hugging him closer. "But you aren't cruel. You hate hurting people or seeing them get hurt. Perhaps Professor Snape will see that now."

"Maybe," Harry muttered, closing his eyes and resting his cheek on Hermione's shoulder. Within moments, his breathing evened out and he was asleep.

Hermione sighed as she looked at her best friend, who she considered a little brother. This little encounter had hurt him so deeply.

She knew that he blamed himself for Cedric's death and for what had almost happened at the Ministry. Hell, sometimes he even blamed himself for his parents' deaths. She knew that he hated having the newspapers printing lies about him and the masses scrutinising his every move. He couldn't go anywhere without a group of reporters swarming him.

Hermione kissed Harry's cheek and levitated him with a spell, leading him up to the boys' dormitories. She eased the door open and placed Harry on his bed, pulling back the covers and taking off his shoes and glasses before tucking him in.

"'Mione...love you..." Harry mumbled in his sleep, unconsciously leaning into her touch. It made her heart ache. He looked so incredibly vulnerable at times like these; it was hard to believe that she was in the presence of one of the most powerful wizards of their time.

"Good night, Harry," she whispered before ducking out of the room.

Harry cracked his eyes open and stared at the ceiling blearily, feeling extremely exhausted. He heard Ron snoring, and Neville sigh in his sleep. Dean and Seamus were both dead asleep.

Harry closed his eyes again, yawning widely. Before he slipped under, he unconsciously closed his mind off.

* * *

Severus stared at the untouched tumbler of firewhiskey in front of him; the amber liquor seemed like it was taunting him, laughing at him for how much Potter's words had affected him. He could still see the pain in those vivid green eyes, so much like Lily's, and it had damn near broke his heart. He hated himself for the heartbreak that had crossed Potter' face, and the way his voice had broken after he'd finished screaming.

He felt so confused by tonight's turn of events. He had never expected Potter to fight back the way he did. For years, the boy sat there and took all of his scathing and hateful comments, with the occasional come back that landed him in detention.

He didn't understand what had caused him to fight back. He admired it, grudgingly, but he didn't understand why.

He knew he may have been too hard on him, calling him an idiot after the admirable first attempt at Occlumency. He shields had been much better than they had been in the boy's fifth year, but yet he had still lashed out at Potter. It had taken months for Severus to manage it perfectly, so why had he expected it to be different for Potter?

He didn't understand how he could have been so wrong about Harry Potter. He was supposed to be a master spy, capable of picking people apart in a matter of moments. Why hadn't he seen the boy as himself and not as a clone of his father? How could he have been so blind?

While Harry had been trying to block Severus out the night before, Severus had managed to see how his life had been at the Dursleys, how they had treated him. He had seen how he was treated even worse than a house elf, starved and beaten when things had gone wrong.

That wasn't how Harry Potter's life was supposed to be. Harry Potter was supposed to have a glorious life, the Golden Boy of Gryffindor, the champion of the wizarding world. He was supposed to be privileged, spoilt…anything but what he was.

Severus couldn't wrap his mind around it.

For the second time in his life, Severus Snape had been wrong about something.

Very, very wrong.

* * *

"I want to go apologise to Snape," Harry said suddenly at breakfast the next morning, making Ron, Neville, and Hermione freeze.

"I'm sorry, mate," Ron said slowly. "Could you repeat that? It sounded like you said you wanted to apologise to Snape."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "That's exactly what I said, Ron." Harry took a bite of his toast, regarding his three friends carefully. He knew they'd protest, especially Ron, but he knew that he had to do it.

"Harry, while it's admirable, why, exactly, do you want to apologise?" Hermione asked gently, looking at Harry with concern.

"Because I feel that it's the right thing to do," Harry said. "I want to apologise to him."

"Mate, in case you've forgotten, he made you cry," Ron said quietly. "I know that you almost never cry. Except for when…y'know. But, Harry, do you really have to apologise to the greasy git?"

Harry nodded, his eyes shining with conviction. "I need to, Ron. Yes, I'm aware that he was beyond cruel last night and I didn't deserve what he said to me, but I need to do this. Do you understand?"

There was a collective "No" from the three of them, making him smile.

"Don't worry, you three," Harry said, pushing his plate away and standing up. "I'll be fine."

They watched as he exited the Great Hall before Ron said, "Does anybody else think he's loony?"

"Only from your perspective," a dreamy voice said, making the three of them jump. Luna stood behind them, a faraway look in her eyes. "The Nargles thoroughly approve of this."

"Approve of what?" Ron asked, making Hermione and Neville roll their eyes. He should've known that Luna wasn't going to give him a straight answer. She never gave anyone a straight answer.

"You'll see," Luna said with a smirk, before walking away, her long, tangled hair swishing behind her.

"I love her," Ron said, "but she's so loony sometimes that it makes me question my own sanity."

* * *

"Is there any particular reason you're lurking in front of my office, Potter?"

Harry jumped about three feet in the air, whirling around with his hand pressed to his chest. "Merlin, Professor. Give a bloke a warning next time?" He had been standing outside of Snape's office, trying to gather up the nerve to knock on the door when Professor Snape had come up behind him, his robes swirling around him in that typically, Snape-like way.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Potter, I'm not fond of having to repeat myself. What are you doing outside of my office?"

"Oh, I, um," Harry stammered, rubbing the back of his head self-consciously. "I wanted to come apologise."

Snape stared at him for a few moments, his expression one of disbelief. "Mr. Potter, if this is your idea of a joke-"

"No, Professor," Harry interrupted. "I'm completely serious. There's no joke, no prank. I promise." Harry looked his professor directly in the eyes. "I'm not sorry that I yelled at you, Professor, because I'm tired of you judging me without knowing me." He held a hand up to silence Professor Snape, who had began to interrupt. "You and I both know that you do it. So, I'm not sorry I yelled at you. It was bound to happen sooner or later. But I am sorry that that had to happen the way it did, instead of us discussing it like adults."

The silence that followed Harry's apology made him want a hole to appear in the floor and swallow him whole. He was about to just walk away when Professor Snape said, "I…accept your apology, Potter, and I must offer one myself. I apologise for speaking to you the way I did."

"Apology accepted, Professor."

Later, when Harry was retelling the story, he couldn't quite explain why he felt butterflies in his stomach when he spoke about Snape.

* * *

_I know it's short. But, this was not filler. It was important for the story. Better to ask forgiveness than permission, right? If they hadn't apologised, they'd be going round and round each other. Unlike the last time I wrote _New Perspective_, they aren't going to immediately jump into each other's arms. This is gonna take a while. Anyway, I decided to do away with the lessons with Dumbledore. I don't want to write them or put them in the story, since there's no Horcruxes anyway. Sorry, spoiler. Read, review, send love. Love and Kisses and Nutella to you all._


	7. Chapter 7

_**New Perspective (Or the New-Found Adoration of Severus Snape)**_

_**Chapter **__**Seven**__- _

_A/N: Hi, guys…I know it's been a while. And I'm really sorry. I've just been drawing complete blanks when it comes to writing for this story and ISWAW. I'm so terribly, terribly sorry for making you all wait the way I have. I still have no idea what to do for ISWAW, and I just barely have an idea with this story. But I know how it's going to end, so that's a huge plus. Speaking of pluses, I saw _Les Misérables_ with my Peaches today. It. Was. Amazing. My chest hurt from the sheer emotional genius behind it. It was so fantastic that I couldn't cry. I highly suggest going to see it even if you don't like musicals._

_"What Lies Beneath" by Breaking Benjamin, "Carry On" by fun., and "The A-Team" by Gavin Mikhail wrote this chapter._

_I am not J.K. Rowling. I don't own anything 'cept the plot._

* * *

It was October, two months after Harry had began his Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape, and he was progressing much faster with it than he and Professor Snape thought he would be able to. Once he managed to keep his emotions in check, he was able to keep Professor Snape out of his mind for extended periods of time, and his abilities flourished.

He practiced his Occlumency whenever he could, even in his classes, and he could tell that Professor Snape was grudgingly impressed with his performance. The snarky Potions master no longer threw insults at him during their lessons, just minor suggestions on how to tweak his Occlumency shields

His grades, thanks to his newfound ability to concentrate for longer periods of time, now rivaled Hermione's due to him actually doing assignments the day they were assigned instead of putting them off and paying better attention in classes.

Hermione was ecstatic to have finally found a study partner that wasn't Neville or Padma Patil and took advantage of Harry's willingness to study every chance that she could. Harry honestly didn't mind it all that much, much to his and everyone else's surprise.

"I have to say, Harry," Hermione said as they finished their Transfiguration homework. "I really am proud of you for stepping up the way you have. I was starting to think that you'd en up just like Ronald with his deplorable study habits."

Harry smiled at the jab, knowing that she meant it in jest. "I feel like I need something to keep me occupied," Harry said. "It helps me practice my Occlumency."

"How is that going, by the way? You haven't said a lot about it," Hermione stated, putting her Transfiguration book into her satchel.

"I'm getting much better at it," Harry said, grinning. "I can do it now with almost no thought at all. I mean, sometimes I get distracted and it slips a little, but I can catch it before my shields go down completely."

"That's fantastic, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. "I'm really proud of you for all of your hard work."

"You sound just like Remus and Sirius," Harry said with a laugh, rolling his eyes at his friend. "I swear, you'd have thought I discovered the cure to cancer or something."

"But we all know how hard Occlumency is for you," Hermione told him as they exited the library, making Harry snort.

"Your confidence in my abilities is so reassuring, Mione," Harry said. He opened his mouth to continue when he felt a slight nudge against his shields, making him reflexively clamp down on his mind, throwing out the intruder without even having to think about it.

"Harry?" Hermione asked in concern, noticing the change of expression on his face. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," he said distractedly. "Someone just tried to get into my head." His brow furrowed in confusion. He wasn't aware if anyone else in the school was a Legilimens, so that meant…

"Very good, Potter," a voice from the corner said. Harry and Hermione spun around to see Professor Snape standing there, his arms crossed against his chest. "I must say, I'm impressed that you managed to keep me out without any warning. I assumed you wouldn't have been able to do it, given your performance in some of our lessons."

Ignoring the backhanded compliment, Harry merely smirked at the Potions professor. "You know what happens when you assume, Professor," he said cheekily. "It makes an ass out of you and me."

"Potter!"

Harry grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her towards the Great Hall, away from Professor Snape, you looked as if he were about to hex Harry right where he stood. Harry laughed as Hermione reprimanded him for cursing in front of Snape and insulting him in such a manner.

"He might've cursed you, Harry!" Hermione said, though she was smiling as she yelled at him. She shook her head at him when he merely shrugged it off. "Honestly, Harry, of all the teachers."

Harry only laughed and let go of her arm, slinging his arm around her shoulders. "Believe me, Mione, I had an escape plan the entire time. Having you there was an added bonus."

Hermione rolled her eyes, knowing that it was pretty much pointless to argue with him. She poked him in the side, giggling when he shied away. "Still ticklish, I see," she said, smiling. "Anyway, I wanted to ask you if you've been having any more nightmares. You haven't said anything about them recently." She looked up at him in concern. "You aren't keeping them to yourself, are you?"

She knew that Harry didn't like to involve other people in his personal problems, due to his ridiculously stupid hero-complex, making him want to take the entire burden off of everyone's shoulders. It was an endearing quality, but sometimes it was downright frustrating to Hermione.

"No, Mione," Harry said with a small smile. "I haven't had any nightmares since I started Occlumency." Hermione visibly relaxed, but raised an eyebrow when his face suddenly flushed. "It's nothing," he said at her questioning look. "Really."

"Harry, your face looks like a tomato right now," she said, fixing him with a pointed look. "What is it?"

"Well, I, um," he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. "I, um, I've had a few…weird dreams the past few days. Not bad ones, like my nightmares…just….weird."

"And what is it about these dreams that make them 'weird'?" Hermione asked. Harry's face, which had slowly been turning back to its normal shade, flushed brightly once more.

"Just…they, um…they involve…"

"They involve?" Hermione prompted.

Harry looked around the hallway to see if anyone was within earshot before whispering into Hermione's ear, "Professor Snape." His face turned an unhealthy purple colour and he ducked his head to hide it. Hermione stared at him with wide eyes until she began to laugh.

"Oh Harry," she giggled.

"Shut up, Mione, it's not funny," he growled. "I don't like the fact that I've been having aforementioned and never to be mentioned again dreams. It's not like I want to have them."

_Oh, but Harry, I believe you do,_ Hermione thought, biting her lip to stop herself from laughing. It was obvious to her that Harry was in the Land of Oblivion and he wasn't aware of his exact feelings for the snarky Potions professor.

_We'll have to see about that._

* * *

Over the next two weeks, Hermione kept a close eye on Harry to see how he reacted whenever Professor Snape was mentioned in conversation or in the room at the same time as Harry. She had to constantly pinch herself to keep from giggling like a school girl whenever she saw Harry's cheeks redden a little when Professor Snape walked by him in Potions class.

If they happened to be talking about Potions class or the Professor himself, Harry would become extremely quiet, like his was lost in his own train of thought until Ron or Seamus pulled him back into the conversation by asking him a question. Even then his answers were guarded, and Hermione noticed that when he insulted Snape, his insults were said in a monotone and lacked the venom that they had always had before.

Though she wasn't willing to mention it to Harry just yet, Hermione was completely convinced that Harry fancied Snape. There could be no other explanation to his behaviour unless he was under some sort of spell, and Hermione had checked him over herself. She shared her observations with Neville after Herbology class while Ron and harry went down to the Quidditch pitch to practice.

"I think Harry fancies Professor Snape," she said quietly to him as they headed down towards the Black Lake. "Have you noticed that he blushes every single time we say 'Snape' or he walks into the room?"

Neville laughed softly. "I thought I was the only one who'd noticed. I was beginning to think that I was losing my mind there for a while."

Hermione giggled, covering her mouth with her hand as a pair of Ravenclaw fourth years walked past them, arguing about some Transfiguration theory. "It's actually rather funny," she said. "I don't think he realises that he does, otherwise we'd be hearing about all kinds of risky attempts to get Snape's attention."

Neville nodded and bit his lip to keep from laughing too loud. He stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets and shook his head, his blond hair swaying lightly. "Honestly, though, Snape and Harry? I think they'd end up killing one another."

"They might, but you never-" Hermione's breath caught in her throat as she tripped over a tree root, mentally preparing herself for the inevitable impact with the ground. But instead of getting a mouthful of dirt, she felt two strong arms wrap themselves around her waist and steady her, bringing her face within centimetres of Neville's.

She swallowed inaudibly as her eyes travelled over his face, his lips, his cheekbones, until their eyes met and her cheeks flushed a horrendous red colour. "S-sorry about that," she said, not moving her face away.

"It's no problem," Neville answered, his eyes trailing over her face. "Hermione..."

"Yes?"

"Can I…can I kiss you?" he asked shyly, his cheeks turning pink. Her eyes widened comically for a moment before she nodded enthusiastically, her stomach exploding into millions of butterflies. Her heart started to race as Neville closed the distance between them, and she shut her eyes just as his lips touched hers.

Neville's lips were slightly rough and chapped against hers, but…_soft and amazing and brilliant and sweet and oh Merlin this is fantastic!_

The sound of catcalling made Hermione break away from Neville, and she looked over her shoulder to see Harry, Ron, Luna, and Ginny standing together, all four of them wearing huge smiles on their faces as they continued to whistle and shout things at the two of them.

"It's about time, Mione!" Ginny called, waving at her friend cheerfully before taking Luna's hand and pulling the blonde Ravenclaw back towards the castle.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry and Ron, who were still leering at her and Neville.

"Do you want to go down to the lake?" Neville asked, slipping his arm around her waist cautiously, as if he were waiting for her to tell him to remove it.

"Of course," Hermione said brightly, nuzzling herself deeper into his embrace. Her heart jumped into her throat when she saw the brilliant smile on Neville's face.

As Neville lead his friend down to the Black Lake, Harry couldn't help but think that he'd like to be in Hermione's position, with someone who cared about him. When he tried to think about whom it might possibly be, all he could come up with was Professor Snape.

_What the bloody hell is wrong with me?_

* * *

_So, I know that was rather short. But it was helping get the ball rolling. And the Neville and Hermione interaction wasn't supposed to happen in this chapter, but I was writing and I had a fangirl moment and threw it in there because it was just to adorable to pass up. Anyway, read, review, send love. Love and kisses and Nutella to you all._


	8. Chapter 8

_**New Perspective (Or the New-Found Adoration of Severus Snape)**_

_**Chapter **__**Eight- Ignorance is Bliss **_

_A/N: Hey, everybody! It's been a while, I know, but I've been trying to be a responsible author and map out the chapters for this story so that way I can stop winging it like I have been. So far, I believe I've got the basic outlines for chapters up until chapter 17. I have been suffering from a severe case of writers block for all of the stories that I'm working on currently, this one especially. But I had a blast of genius the other day. And therefore I am writing. As it turns out, this story is going to be longer – _much longer – _than I had originally anticipated, and I would hate to rush it. So I may or may not break this into two stories, but I may keep it as one, but it'll just be super long. Let me know what you think._

_This chapter, for those of you who had the opportunity to read _New Perspective_ before it was rewritten, sets of the Ron and Draco subplot. I hope you like what I'm doing with it._

"_Midnight City" by M83, "Either Way" by Beta Radio, and "Evil Angel" by Breaking Benjamin helped this chapter._

_I am not J.K. Rowling, therefore I gain no profit from this… Do you think that she gets online and reads fan fiction? Oh, can you imagine the look of horror on her face when she finds out what we do to her beloved characters?_

* * *

Ronald Weasley knew that he, as every other teenage boy, had moments where he could be an absolute idiot. There were times when he knew if his mother could see him, she'd probably cuff him round the head and tell him to stop being so thick.

He could be hard-headed and stubborn, and he didn't always think before he took action. He wasn't the model student and he knew his grades showed it.

But Ronald Weasley wasn't stupid.

That's how he knew that there was something terribly wrong with Draco Malfoy.

Under normal circumstances, he would have been glad that the little ferret wasn't constantly antagonizing Harry, calling Hermione all sorts of hideous names, and insulting his family. He would have accepted this rather peaceful year readily.

But there was something different, something…off.

He had first noticed it a few weeks after the term had started, one morning at breakfast. He had looked up from his plate to take a sip of pumpkin juice, when he happened to look over in the general direction of the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy was sitting alone.

Alone.

Normally, all of Malfoy's cronies were surrounding him, basking in his pathetic glory, kissing up to him because his father was a powerful Death Eater, one who had close connections with You-Know-Who. They fawned over him, laughing at his jokes, offering to do his homework, asking him for help on their homework, anything to get close to him.

But he had been sitting there, alone, closer to the end of the table. The rest of the Slytherin house was all together, carrying on as if nothing was wrong.

Ron had looked away when Hermione had said his name, asking him if he had finished his Transfiguration homework. Putting Malfoy in the back of his mind, Ron thought nothing of it until a few days later, during an unusual free period that the sixth years had.

Harry had insisted on going outside to study, saying that the fresh air would do them all good and get the potion fumes out of their systems. Ron had agreed readily, his entire being itching for the feeling of the sun on his face. They had been in the dungeons most of the morning, and he felt that he was going to explode if they had to stay inside any longer.

They had settled down under a tree lining the shore of the Black Lake, Hermione spreading out all of her notes to help Harry with a History of Magic essay that was due the next day.

Ron had sprawled out on the ground, his arms folded up behind his head, and he listened to Hermione explain the political points of one of the infinitely numerous goblin wars.

He had noticed that Harry had grown a lot more attentive to his studies after he had started Occlumency lessons, and he felt a surge of pride for his best friend. Harry had been working so hard on his Occlumency, and it had really paid off.

He no longer had dark circles under his eyes and the haggard look of someone who was unable to sleep. Ron knew that he was sleeping through the night, and he was glad that the nightmares had stopped.

He had also noticed how odd Harry had begun acting whenever Professor Snape – the slimy git – was brought into conversation. Harry would sometimes go off into his own little world, his eyes getting a strange faraway look to them, and would start violently whenever someone said his name. His cheeks would flush slightly, and he would blame it on the heat.

When they were in Potions class, Harry would also watch Snape intently, as if he were drinking in every single word that Snape had to say, as if he were afraid of missing something. His face would glow strangely whenever Snape would criticize his potion, and he never fought back anymore.

All in all, it was very strange.

Ron had smiled as he listened to Hermione and Harry argue over King So-and-so's rights to whatever plot of territory whatever goblin clan had claimed at the time, and tilted his head slightly to get more of the sun on his face.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Draco Malfoy sitting with his feet in the water, the end of his trousers rolled up, his robes thrown off to the side casually. His tie was loosened and he had unbuttoned the first few buttons of his uniform shirt. He was staring into the water, fixated on his reflection.

Ron focused very carefully on Malfoy, shifting minutely so that he didn't alert Harry and Hermione. He took in Malfoy's face, or what could be seen behind the platinum blond hair.

Malfoy had always been pale and thin, but Ron saw how his clothes hung loosely on him, as if they were too big for him. His skin had gone from a healthy pale colour to a sallow, sickly white. His cheek bones were prominent, much more than they had been in all of the years Ron had known him.

Malfoy kicked absently at the water, his shoulders shaking as if he were laughing or crying. Ron was too far away to hear, but it was still shocking to see. He had never seen Malfoy look so…human before.

"Ron? Ron, are you listening?"

Ron had jumped, his head whipping around to look at Hermione. "Sorry, Mione, what was that?" he asked, smiling sheepishly at her.

She sighed patiently as she rolled her eyes. "I asked if you had finished your essay for DADA yet," she said, looking at him expectantly. "The one on defensive spells. It's due tomorrow."

Ron thought about it for a moment, unsure if he had actually done that essay or not. "I did it at lunch the other day," he said finally. "The one where we had to explain the differences between _Protego_ and other shield charms?"

"Yes, that one," she said, tucking her History of Magic back into her bag. "Nice to see that you didn't want until the last minute to do it." She smiled at him, reaching over to ruffle his hair.

"Figured that it was easy, so there wasn't any reason to put it off," he said, shrugging. "Now can we just relax and enjoy the weather, Mione? I don't want to think about class work anymore." He shot her a pleading look, making her sigh again.

"Fine, fine," she said, setting her bag back down. "I don't think we have any other assignments that are due anyway."

Harry rolled his eyes at her before flopping down on the ground next to her, stretching out his arms and wincing when he heard a _pop_. "I'm so tired I could sleep for a month," he informed them, closing his eyes. "Snape's been running me ragged. I swear, he's purposely trying to exhaust me."

Ron fought back a snigger at the unintentional double entendre, settling back into his original position. He looked back over to where Malfoy had been sitting, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face.

Malfoy was gone.

* * *

Ron rubbed at his eyes tiredly, looking down at the textbook in front of him, the words on the page swimming together.

In an effort to catch up with Harry and Hermione, he had been studying whenever he time to himself, but he was so tired after Quidditch practice that it was hard for him to remember what his own name was, let alone the ten exceptions of Dippet's Theory of Transfiguration.

Ron stretched in his chair, groaning silently when his shoulders and back cracked. Alicia had drilled them extensively, saying they had to be in tiptop shape to win against Ravenclaw, and it had taken its toll on the entire team.

They had barely been able to stand upright as they left the pitch, each of them except Alicia so tired they couldn't even blink.

Ron had gone straight to the library after coming back into the castle, hoping to finish up his Transfiguration homework. He had been staring at the same paragraph for about half an hour, and his brain was crying for him to go back to the Gryffindor tower to get some sleep.

Sighing, Ron closed the book and stuffed it back on the shelf where he had picked it up, grabbing his satchel and standing, yawning behind his hand. He really should have just gone straight to bed instead of coming to the-

"Get out of my way, Weasley."

Ron jumped at Malfoy's voice, the usual ice-cold venom replaced by something that sounded tired and defeated. He turned and stepped away from Malfoy, finally getting a good look at him.

Malfoy was standing with his shoulders hunched, his hands stuffed into his pockets. His hair, which used to always be plastered to his head with some kind of gel, was loose and looked as if he had been running his hands through it nervously.

His eyes were dull and exhausted, and they were lacking the bright spark that usually flared whenever he and Harry had a confrontation. They were no longer the brilliant, flashing silver colour. They were a stormy, dark grey, one that Ron never thought he would see in Malfoy's eyes.

Ron stared at him uncomprehendingly, as if he were looking at someone who he had never met before. He really _had_ never met this side of Malfoy before – this lifeless, broken shell of him. It wasn't right; there was something that was terribly, terribly wrong with Malfoy.

Ron would have given anything in that moment for the old Draco to come back, to spit an insult at his family's financial issues, his numerous siblings, his blood traitor status, anything. He would have appreciated a hex fired at him, or a slight shove that would escalate into some sort of physical fight. He wanted the old Malfoy back, even if he was a scrawny, slimy git. Anything that would return some sense of normalcy to this.

Ron didn't know how to act around this Malfoy, this broken, lifeless shell of Malfoy that seemed like with the slightest touch would simply shatter into a million pieces. He was so uncertain, so hesitant, and that's what frightened him most.

He wanted to say something, to demand to know what was wrong, just to get some sort of answer from Malfoy. He wanted to stop the questions that plagued him night and day, this odd sense of protectiveness that he had developed over Malfoy.

He wanted it to stop.

"Weasley, get out of my way," Malfoy repeated, his voice hoarse and dry, like it hadn't been used in days. "I don't have time for you."

Ron stared at Malfoy unabashedly, taking in Malfoy's drawn, gaunt face, the dark, almost black circles under his eyes, the sickly white colour of his skin, wanting to... _He wanted to reach out and brush Draco's cheek with his hand._

Ron realised that his hand had risen on its own accord and he shook his head sharply, stepping aside to let Malfoy brush past him, trying to fight back the dizzying feeling that was in his head and ignore the way his breath caught in his throat when Draco's bony shoulder brushed against his chest.

Ron remained glued to the spot, staring after Draco's retreating figure, his head spinning and his heart racing in his chest. He had wanted to confront Malfoy, to yell and rage and ask why he was all Ron could think about now, why he looked so sick, why he was alone all the time.

But he had wanted to touch his face, to comfort him.

Ron closed his eyes and shook his head again, slowly making his way out of the library, rubbing his forehead to try and calm his thoughts before he made it back to the Gryffindor tower. He didn't understand what he just occurred in the library, but he did know one thing.

He was going to find out what was wrong with Draco Malfoy.

* * *

Draco sat down in a remote corner of the library, out of the watchful gaze of Madame Pince, who had glared at him over the rim of her spectacles when he had come in. The miserable old wench was a staunch supporter of the Light, and anyone associated with Death Eaters were automatically not welcome in her domain.

Draco sighed heavily and put his throbbing head in his hands, breathing in and out slowly like his mother had taught him to do as a child when he became angry.

_Malfoys do not show their anger, my Dragon_, she had said to him as she repaired the glass items he had broken in a fit of childish rage. _They remain calm and collected, holding their heads higher than everyone in the room. When you are angry, do not let anyone see it. _

His heart panged slightly when he thought of his mother, and the hastily scrawled letter that was burning a hole in his pocket. He had read it many times, at least once a day since she had sent it three weeks ago.

His veins burned with white-hot anger towards his father, towards the man who had destroyed everything, but he refused to lash out like he desperately wanted to. He couldn't, because he was still a Malfoy, and Malfoys did not lash out like children. He was better than that.

Draco rubbed at his forehead, already feeling the beginnings of a headache, wishing that he could just forget about everything. He wanted things to go back to how they had been before the end of last year, before his father had almost been arrested at the Ministry.

Draco opened his eyes again, randomly selecting a book off of the shelf and opening it to a random page. He didn't want to think about anything. He didn't want to think of the isolation that he was facing in the Slytherin dorms, the overhanging threat of the Dark Lord, the fear for his mother's life, the destructive anger he felt at his father's actions.

His mind was constantly in motion, thinking about everything and anything at once. He was unable to sleep at night, unable to eat, unable to do anything.

Draco sighed and bit back the sob that threatened to climb out of his throat. No matter how much he wanted to, he would not cry. Malfoys did _not_ cry.

His eyes moved down to the open book in front of him, reading the first few sentences, hoping to stop thinking about everything.

Especially bright blue eyes and fiery red hair.

* * *

_And there is chapter 8! I will be working on chapter 9 this weekend (health and schedule permitting), and hopefully I will have it up. For my ISWAW fans, I'll try to work on chapter 8…or maybe it's 9, or whatever number it is, this weekend as well. I might not have it up, but I will try. Oh, and I'm also posting a one-shot epilogue for PTC, for all of you who want one. Good night for now, luvs. Read, review, send love. Love and kisses and Nutella to you all!_


	9. Chapter 9

_**New Perspective (Or the New-Found Adoration of Severus Snape)**_

_**Chapter **__**Nine- This Feeling I've Got**_

_A/N: Hello everyone! Here is the newest chapter of _New Perspective. _I'm so proud of myself for actually working on this story with the fiery passion that I have been. I've also been unable to stop listening to "Cell Block Tango" from the musical _Chicago_. Such a great song, if you don't mind the fact they're singing about how they all murdered their husbands. But that's beside the point. Completely irrelevant. I hope you all loved the Ron and Draco interaction last chapter, because I know that I did. I like writing Ron as a more mature person. But now we're getting closer to the Severus and Harry interaction. Who's excited? Cuz I know I am._

"_Try" by P!nk, "I Can't Stop This Feeling I've Got" by Razorlight and "For the First Time" by Boyce Avenue wrote this chapter._

_I am not J.K. Rowling. Unfortunately. _

* * *

"Professor?"

Harry stuck his head into the office cautiously, hoping not to catch the snarky professor off guard or interrupt something that would result in Snape trying to kill him later.

Professor Snape, thankfully, was sitting at his desk, reading through what looked like essays, his quill scratching against the parchment harshly. Harry tentatively took a step into the office, clearing his throat to catch the man's attention.

"Mr. Potter, I am aware that you are here. There is no need to continue to announce your presence," Snape said, his voice bored. "I would assume that you would only risk death for something incredibly important – or I should say that I hope so – so you may take a seat and wait until I am finished."

Harry smiled, sitting down cautiously in the chair facing Snape's desk and watched the man mark the essays, noticing that the man's hair was pulled back into a low ponytail at the base of his neck to keep it out of his face. Harry thought that it looked rather nice like that.

_Wait, what?_

Shaking his head, Harry looked away from the professor, his eyes drawn to a collection of thin vials on one of the ingredient shelves, all of them filled with shavings that looked as if they had been shorn off of a rock. They were slate gray in colour, and they immediately interested Harry.

He stood up and went over to the shelf, peering curiously at the shavings, his head tilted slightly to the side. The shavings had a dull, metallic sheen to them, catching what little light there was in the office.

"Mr. Potter, please refrain from touching those," Professor Snape said without looking up from his markings, his tone biting. "If they are even slightly disturbed, they will become unstable and most likely explode. I would just hate to have to explain to the Headmaster about your untimely death or disfigurement in my office."

Harry drew his hand back from the glass vial he had been reaching for, his eyes widening. He knew that there were dangerous potion ingredients in Snape's office, but he hadn't considered the notion that there might have been things that could cause death sitting on these shelves so innocently. Unless they had known about them, anyone could have come in and probably killed themselves on accident.

"And you just keep them here on the shelves? Aren't you worried about, I don't know, bumping into them or something?" Harry asked incredulously, looking over at Snape.

"Unlike yourself, Mr. Potter, I am capable of walking across a flat surface without finding something to trip on," Snape drawled, lifting his head to give Harry a scathing look. "Why exactly are you in my office? I have other things to do than entertain you."

Harry rolled his eyes, setting the slim book he had been carrying on Snape's desk before turning back to the supply shelves. "I found this in the library and I wanted to get your opinion on it," he said nonchalantly, eyeing a jar filled with a murky green substance. "It says that there's a way you can focus all of your memories into one location, to make it harder for someone else to access them. Kind of like locking them into a box."

Snape set his quill down and picked the book up, opening it to the page that Harry had bookmarked. "I'm familiar with this practice," he said after glancing through it. "It may be possible, but it would be immensely difficult to do it correctly. You could be driven into insanity if you focus too much energy on one portion of your mind and try to place every single memory that you have into this hypothetical box. The amount of memories that one person has, even you aren't aware that you have them, would simply overflow and continue to do so no matter how large you make this box. Eventually, it would begin to affect your emotions as well, because your mind associates memories with them."

Harry nodded, a pensive expression on his face. "Is there a possibility that you could forget about something entirely by locking it away?" he asked, his fingers brushing against a purple vial.

"It is," Snape said, closing the book. "It could cause gaps in your memory, and by locking it away, your mind could siphon off memories that you want to keep, or morph them into something entirely new. All in all, it is an extremely risky attempt that I myself would not make."

"I thought that it may have been useful in hiding memories in case Vol- the Dark Lord ever managed to get into my mind," Harry said. "He's manipulated my memories before, and the outcomes were never pretty." He shivered, thinking about how Voldemort's manipulations almost cost him his godfather.

"Your Occlumency shields are surprisingly strong, Mr. Potter," Snape stated, holding the book out for Harry to take. "If you continue to keep them in place and become more proficient at casting Legilimens out of your mind, the Dark Lord should not be able to continue reaching out to you through your connection."

Harry's eyes widened at the compliment, backhanded as it may have been, and felt his face flush unexpectedly. "T-Thank you sir," he stammered, taking the book from Professor Snape's outstretched hand, gasping silently when their fingers accidentally brushed.

_He touched my hand…_

_Professor Snape just touched my hand._

Harry stared at his professor, his mind whirling in a thousand different directions, unable to form a coherent sentence. His breath caught in his throat, his hand beginning to tingle pleasantly. His face felt as if it was on fire, and he could feel himself beginning to tremble.

Their eyes locked, and Harry felt himself start to feel overwhelmed by the obsidian depths, unreadable and guarded as they always were. He felt rooted to the spot, his entire body freezing.

The silence in the office grew thick and tense, neither of them looking away, until the book slipped out of Harry's fingers, falling to the floor with an obscene _thud._ Harry released a breath that he hadn't realised he'd been holding and bent to pick the book up, hiding his flaming face from Professor Snape.

When he straightened, he saw Professor Snape staring at him, his eyes burning with something that Harry couldn't describe.

"Will that be all, Mr. Potter?" Professor Snape breathed, his voice oddly tight.

Harry nodded quickly, reshouldering his bag and clutching the book tightly in his hand, desperately trying not to trip over his own two feet as he made his way towards the door. He grabbed the door handle, pausing and turning back to Professor Snape, who seemed to be staring intently at the spot where Harry had been standing. "T-Thank you for your time, Professor. I'll see you in class."

Before Snape could respond, Harry fled from the office.

* * *

Despite the cold, biting wind that was tearing at his robes, Harry perched on the edge of the Astronomy Tower, staring at his hand with incredulity. The tingling in his fingers had long subsided from the exposure to the freezing air.

He wiggled his stiffening fingers, trying to see if the tingling would come back. He didn't understand why his body had reacted the way it did to a simple touch, and from Professor Snape of all people. His pulse began to race when he thought of those long, elegant fingers brushing against his skin, and he quickly shook his head.

Harry pulled his robes around him tighter, gazing absently at the ground below him. He wished that he could wrap his head around what had happened in Professor Snape's office.

He knew that he no longer viewed Professor Snape as an evil-hearted git who went out of his way to make Harry's life a misery. He knew that there was much more to the snarky bastard than he had previously thought, years of hurt and betrayal underneath that calm exterior.

He felt that he could trust Professor Snape with his life, even if the man constantly threatened to painfully dismember him if he became too much of a nuisance. The insults and barbs that Snape would throw at him no longer stung like they would have. No, they made Harry laugh, because Harry finally felt that he was able to respond in kind.

The playing field had evened between them, and Harry was no longer afraid of his Potions professor. He no longer hated him either.

So, what exactly did he think of Professor Snape?

Harry sighed and shook his head once more, looking down at the wristwatch Hermione had given him for his birthday. He had been up in the tower for more than two hours, and he felt a slight pang of guilt. He had been with Hermione in the library when he had found the book on Occlumency, and he had told her that he would have gone back to the Gryffindor Tower ages ago.

Harry moved away from the edge of the tower, gathering his things as he stood up, wincing when his back cracked from sitting for too long. He shivered at the cold wind as he made his way down the staircase, mentally preparing excuses that Hermione would buy.

He had been so wrapped up in his own mind that he barely noticed that he had reentered the castle, let alone the figure that was walking straight towards him, until he collided heavily with them, almost knocking them off of their feet.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," he said, straightening himself and offering a hand to steady them.

"It's alright, Harry," Romilda Vane said, smiling slyly at him. "You looked like you had a lot on your mind."

"I did," he admitted sheepishly, his cheeks tingeing pink. "I was trying to think of ways to avoid being yelled at by Hermione. I told her I would meet her back at the common room about an hour ago. She'll be looking for me."

Romilda smiled, her heavily painted lips revealing perfect, white teeth. "She was about to start a search party for you when I left the tower," she said, laughing softly. "I think Neville persuaded her to calm down and think rationally."

Harry rubbed the back of his head, smiling guiltily. "I didn't mean to worry her. I'll see you around, alright?" he asked, stepping around Romilda and continuing on his way, turning back when she called his name.

"Are you busy this weekend?" she asked, putting her hand on her hip and puffing her chest out.

"I have a detention with P-Professor Snape tomorrow night," he said, cursing himself internally when he stammered over the Potion professor's name.

"Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow morning, then?" she asked, coming closer to him. Harry noticed that the buttons on her uniform shirt were left undone, a lacy black bra strap peeking out from underneath. He fought back the urge to roll his eyes. "I think it would be fun, just you and I."

Harry stared at her for a moment, realization dawning on him. "Are you asking me on a date, Romilda?" he asked, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. "I've told you before, you're a lovely girl, but I'm just not interested."

"I really like you, Harry," Romilda said as if he hadn't spoken at all. She took a step closer, until their chests were almost touching. Harry could smell her perfume, a nauseatingly strong mix of lavender and something incredibly sweet, and he could see the smudges of her mascara on her eyelids. "I want to go out with you," she continued, her voice dropping into what he thought was supposed to be a sensuous purr. "I think we'd be a good together."

"Romilda," he said, grabbing her shoulders and pushing her away gently. "I've told you on at least two occasions now, I'm not interested in you. I don't want to go out with you, and I'm not going to change my mind."

Romilda frowned, stepping forward again. "Harry," she said, putting a hand on his chest and running it up and down. "Give me a chance. I'll do anything." She said the last part coyly, a smirk appearing on her face. Slowly, she got down onto her knees in front of him, never taking her eyes off of his face. Her voice became husky as she repeated, "I'll do _anything_, Harry."

"For Merlin's sake, Romilda!" he cried, jumping away from her. "I'm not bloody interested! I'm fucking _gay_!"

Romilda's dark eyes widened, her mouth falling open. "You're…you're what?" Her tone was disbelieving, and it only enraged Harry.

"Gay," Harry said hotly. "I've told you before that I'm not interested, nor will I ever be. Will you please get that through your head? You're only embarrassing yourself."

Without another word, he spun around on his heel and stormed away, leaving her there on the floor in shock. His magic was flaring up in response to his anger, rattling some of the suits of armor as he passed them, stalking straight past the Fat Lady. He couldn't return to the Gryffindor common room in such a state.

The only place that he could think to go was the dungeons, back to Professor Snape's office.

* * *

It was a rare occurrence for Severus Snape to be taken by surprise, but Harry blasted Potter had managed to do it three times within the same day, all within a span of three hours. That had to be some kind of record, in Severus' mind.

He had been taken aback when Potter had entered his office, asking for him about his opinion on the Occlumency theory he had found in the library. It was a testament to how much the boy trusted him to instruct him, and Severus hadn't known whether to feel honoured or annoyed at the prospect. Either way, it meant he would be seeing more of the brat.

He had been impressed with the boy's progress in Occlumency, that was true, but he hadn't been expecting him to do any side research on the topic. He had expected only the bare minimum from Potter, just enough to help him scrape by.

_Do not underestimate Harry, my dear Severus. There is much more to him than meets the eye._

Severus could have snarled at the thrice damned voice in his mind, the one that sounded suspiciously like Dumbledore.

Severus reached for the cup of tea in front of him, sighing as he recalled the feeling of warmth that had spread through him when his fingers had touched Potter's. The brat, though he had looked absolutely shocked, hadn't said anything about it, merely staring at Severus as if he'd never seen him before. Severus had been surprised that Potter hadn't harped on it, demanding answers from Severus. Instead, he had left the office, as if he had known that Severus wouldn't react kindly to questions.

He had just drained the last of his tea when the door of his office opened, revealing a disheveled looking Harry Potter. His magic was whirling around him like a dangerous thunderstorm, his brilliant green eyes flashing with anger.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Professor," he said quietly, staring determinedly at the floor. "I needed a place to calm down, and I couldn't think of anywhere else to go."

Severus raised an eyebrow, setting his cup down. "My office is not the place for you to air your petty, teenaged woes, Mr. Potter," he replied coolly.

Harry looked up at him sharply, and Severus was impressed at the glare that the sixteen-year-old had been able to produce. "I'll sit in the corner if I have to, sir. I won't disturb you."

Severus stared at him before shaking his head. "I will allow this one time, Potter. I won't have you turning this into your therapy room. I have better things to do than-"

"-entertain me," Harry finished flatly, his tone mimicking Severus'. "Yes sir, I know. You've told me numerous times."

"So it seems that you are, in fact, capable of getting something through that thick skull of yours," Severus deadpanned, noting with a smirk the eye roll he received.

"Yes, sir," was the answer as Harry sat down in the corner, as he said he would, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes tightly. "I won't be here long."

"Dare I ask what was so upsetting that you felt the overwhelming need to seek out my presence?" Severus inquired, sitting forward in his chair.

"I was in the Astronomy Tower, er, reading," Potter said, keeping his eyes closed. "I saw what time it was and decided to go back to the common room, because Hermione is probably frothing at the mouth to find out where I am. I ran into Romilda Vane, and she asked me to go to Hogsmeade with her tomorrow."

Severus pressed his fingers together tightly to fight back the sudden surge of jealousy that coursed through him, a white-hot pit of rage building in his stomach. "Isn't that what teenage boys want?" he asked, forcing himself to keep his voice bored.

"I've already turned her down twice," Harry replied. "I'm not interested in her, and she doesn't seem to understand that. She said she'd do anything to be my girlfriend and got down on her knees to blow me, right then and there in the corridor."

It took every ounce of willpower in Severus' body not to grab his wand and find this insipid little brat and hex her into oblivion.

"I told her that I'm gay," Harry continued, unaware of the internal struggle Severus was currently facing. "I don't think she believed me, and I know that she'll end up telling someone. By tomorrow, everyone will know that the Boy-Who-Lived is a pillow biter." He laughed wryly, opening his eyes and staring at the ceiling.

Severus was quiet, staring at the teenager with an unreadable expression. Harry took his silence as an invitation to continue.

"I'm not sure I got angry," he said. "She was making a fool of herself, and it pissed me off that she didn't believe me. I just…I didn't even mean to tell her. But it would get out eventually anyway." Harry sighed, lowering his head. "Remember our first Occlumency lessons this year, when I managed to throw you out of my mind the first time?"

"Vaguely," Severus replied. He did, in fact, remember. He had found a memory containing Cedric Diggory and had been about to examine it when Harry had constructed his shields and pushed Severus out.

"I didn't want you finding my memories of Cedric," Harry said, looking at Severus. "Before he died, Cedric and I were together. I didn't want you to see it and… I don't even know. I just didn't want anyone to know except for my closest friends."

The boy sighed and rubbed at his forehead. "I'm sorry for intruding on you, Professor. I'll be returning to my common room now. I'll see you tomorrow night," he said in a tired, flat voice, standing and straightening out his robes. "Thank you, for listening. I know you don't like to be disturbed, but I couldn't think of anyone else to come to."

Severus remained silent as the boy left his office for the second time, sighing heavily when the door shut behind him.

* * *

_I actually really, really liked writing this chapter. It took me such a long time to do, because I wanted it to be perfect. But now we can see the trust and relationship building between our favourite dungeon bat and our kid with a hero complex. Read, review, send love. Love and kisses and Nutella to you all._


	10. Chapter 10

_**New Perspective (Or the New-Found Adoration of Severus Snape)**_

_**Chapter **__**Ten – Let's Not Speak of Faith**_

_A/N: So, the chapter titles are now coming from lyrics of songs that I happen to hear and like a whole lot. This one caught my attention. It's from "Cover of Night" by Steve Reynolds. Fantastic song. It really kind of pained me to write Romilda Vane as such a slattern in the last chapter, because in my mind she's absolutely beautiful and I would love to write her as a badass. Hm. Maybe I'll give it a try. Oh, I also realised that I have Alicia Spinnet as the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, but she would have already graduated by the time Harry reached his sixth year. Well, I'm going to keep her in here anyway, and make her only a year ahead of Harry instead of two. Taking creative license here._

"_The Scientist" by Coldplay, "Cover of Night" by Steve Reynolds, and "Figure 8" by Ellie Goulding helped this chapter._

_J.K. Rowling, who I sometimes wish to marry and other times wish to be, owns the world of Harry Potter. I make nothing off of it._

* * *

All eyes were on Harry when he stepped into the Great Hall the next morning, all conversation cutting off with a sharp hiss. He held his head up high, staring directly into the eyes of everyone who happened to catch his gaze.

He wasn't going to let them intimidate him.

Romilda Vane sat near the middle of the Gryffindor table, a smug smile on her face. She wriggled her fingers at him, her dark eyes glittering with some sort of bloodthirsty satisfaction. Harry wanted to do nothing more than hex that look off of her face, but he quelled the urge as he sat down next to Hermione, grabbing a piece of toast.

Ron and Neville, who were sitting across from them, shared a look and then glanced at Harry, neither of them sure how to go about bringing up conversation. Ron bit at his lip uncertainly, playing with the fork in his hand. Harry kept his eyes down on his plate, trying to ignore the heavy silence that was weighing down on him. Hermione slid her free hand into his, squeezing it gently. Harry nodded his thanks, placing their conjoined hands on his thigh.

The entire hall was silent, everyone staring directly at him. Harry wanted to snap at all of them, to tell them to fuck off, but he knew that would make the situation worse. He sat silently, taking small bites out of his toast and ignoring the way his stomach roiled.

A girl's voice suddenly rang out, echoing harshly. "So, Harry, is it true?"

Harry lifted his head to meet Alicia Spinnet's eyes, a hardened glint in his own. "Is what true, Alicia?"

"That you're gay," she clarified, leaning forward to look around the fourth year sitting next to her. "Romilda came into the common room last night in a right state, babbling on about how you were gay. Is it true?"

Harry glanced down at Romilda, who was examining her nails, acting as if she weren't listening, as if the entire Great Hall wasn't listening with bated breath. This was her victory, and Harry knew that she was reveling in it.

"It's true," Harry said, his voice echoing in the silence.

Alicia nodded, looking around the entire Gryffindor table before standing up. "You hear that, you lot?" she barked, speaking to the entire Great Hall. "He's gay. Any of you have a problem with it?" She paused, waiting to see if anyone dared challenge her. "No? Good. Keep your noses in your damn business. Anyone who feels that they have a problem with Harry, you can come to me and I'll find some creative way to use my wand on you."

Romilda spluttered, staring at Alicia with a look of disbelief. "Y-You! I-It's disgusting!" she shrieked, getting to her feet. "How can you be so calm about it?! It's wrong! He's revolting!"

Harry felt Hermione's hand tightening on his, her magic beginning to crackle around them like electricity. It mixed with his, the combined power making Neville and Ron look over at them in concern.

Alicia regarded the girl coolly, pulling her wand out from her sleeve. "Romilda," she said calmly, her voice dangerous. "I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but Harry's a good friend of mine. I don't give two shits if he's gay, because it doesn't change who he is. Now, do you want to reevaluate your choice of words before I do some sort of irreversible damage to your face?"

Romilda glared at her for moment before storming out of the Great Hall, shrieking again when Alicia swished her wand turned her hair a ghastly shade of pink.

Alicia put her wand away, a satisfied smile on her face, winking at Harry and sitting down, picking up her fork and continuing to eat as if nothing had happened. Harry stared at her with wide eyes, feeling a large rush of warmth and gratitude towards the older girl.

"Thank you, Alicia," he called, smiling widely. Alicia smiled back at him, waving his thanks away, returning to her conversation with Katie Bell and Demelza about Quidditch tactics that they needed to work on at practice.

The dull roar of conversation quickly returned to the Great Hall, the tense silence dissolving as the rumour mill once again began to spin. Harry sighed, his smile fading as he looked down at his breakfast. He suddenly found that he wasn't hungry anymore and he made to get up when Hermione tightened her hand on his.

"Stay until I've finished," she said. "We'll go back to the common room together."

Harry nodded, resting his head on her shoulder. She squeezed his hand reassuringly, reaching up with her free hand to pet his hair softly before going back to eating. Harry hid his face from the rest of the Great Hall, listening to snippets of their conversations.

"…thought it may have been…"

"Not surprising…"

"I don't care who Potter shags…"

"…thought he was with Cho Chang?"

"Does it really matter?"

Harry closed his eyes, sighing. He wanted this day to be over already, and it had barely just started. He could feel Neville and Ron watching him in concern, but he didn't want to answer any of their questions. He didn't want to speak to anyone, to face anyone, to deal with anyone. He wanted to go back to his dorm room and sleep, hoping that this would all be a nightmare.

Why couldn't the Boy-Who-Lived have one normal day?

* * *

Harry strolled around the Black Lake slowly, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows despite the cold, his hands in his pockets. He kicked aimlessly at the small rocks in his path, his shoes kicking up small puffs of dirt.

He had promised Hermione that he would only be gone for a little while, just enough to clear his mind –his plan to hide in his dorm room hadn't turned out as well as he would have hoped – and then he would return to the common room. She was still angry for the disappearing act he had pulled the night before, and Harry hadn't wanted to give her further cause to be upset with him.

He had come outside to get away with the constant questions, the strange looks, the whispers, everything that he knew would have followed a revelation like this. They were bad enough on a regular daily basis, but it seemed as if they had doubled in a few short hours.

Romilda Vane, the bint, was currently being ostracized by most of the Gryffindor house, with Alicia being the most vocal about her support of Harry. He didn't know what he had done to get into the girl's good books, but he was grateful for the support and help. Everyone else seemed to be forming their own opinions, though not a single one had come to speak with Harry since the scene at breakfast.

Harry sat down underneath a large tree, leaning against the trunk and sighing. He was so tired of the public eye being on him, especially when t delved into his private life. What business of theirs was it that he was gay? Did it affect them in any way? No, so why did it matter to them?

Harry growled under his breath, closing his eyes and visualizing his Occlumency shields. He knew that any emotional upset could be enough to disable them, and he wanted to be sure that they were still in place. It would be just his luck that Voldemort would pick a moment like this to attack his mind.

When they were strengthened to his liking, Harry opened his eyes to see Professor Snape standing over him, his black eyes full of warring emotions. "Hello, Professor," he said, wincing at how dull and flat his voice sounded in his own ears.

"Potter," Snape said, inclining his head. "The Headmaster asked me to find you, to be sure that you were…well."

Harry nodded before leaning his head back against the trunk and staring up at the sky. "I'm fine, Professor," he said unconvincingly.

"If you think I'm going to believe that, you truly are an idiot, boy," Professor Snape growled.

Harry's head snapped forward, his green eyes blazing as he glared at Professor Snape. "How would you feel if one of your biggest secrets was suddenly thrown out to the public like a piece of meat to ravenous wolves?" he snarled, getting to his feet. "I feel so…so violated right now! That was my secret to tell, not that bitch!"

Professor Snape said nothing as Harry glared at him, his chest heaving angrily. "No one was supposed to know until I felt that it was time!" he yelled. "I didn't tell anyone about this except for my closest friends, and that was the way it was supposed to stay! I…I…" His knees suddenly buckled and he found himself on the ground once more, wrapping his arms around himself as he held in a sob.

"No one was supposed to know," he said, his eyes closed tightly, hating himself for the way his voice broke. "I wasn't going to tell anyone until I felt like I was ready, and I wasn't ready to tell anyone. I don't think I was ever going to be ready."

Harry stifled a gasp as Professor Snape kneeled in front of Harry, wrapping his strong arms around him and holding him to his chest tightly. Harry's eyes flew open as his head rested right over Snape's heart, his body tingling with the sensation of being held closely. He could feel the heat of Professor Snape's body through his thin shirt, the warmth of the hand that rested just on his neck as if it had been placed there by accident. He could hear the soft _thump_ of Snape's heartbeat, and he closed his eyes once more.

There was something so inherently _right_ about Professor Snape holding him that Harry didn't try to fight him, to recoil from his professor like he might have once. He felt safe and secure, something he hadn't felt in anyone else's arms except for his friends and guardians. He felt as if he had been away from a long time and he was finally home.

"Potter," Professor Snape said quietly, his tone fierce. "You are strong. You have lost loved ones, and faced Voldemort and death many times in the past. _You are stronger than they are._ Do _not_ let them beat you with this. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir," Harry replied softly, fighting the urge to hide his face in Professor Snape's robes. He didn't want to move away or end this embrace, to disrupt this sense of peace that had come over him.

Slowly, Snape pulled away from Harry, his hands lingering on his back, sending trails of fire down Harry's skin. "You are stronger," Snape repeated, before standing up and walking away.

Harry remained there on his knees, the warmth slowly fading from the cold air. His eyes were wide and unseeing as he stared at the ground, his mind going in a thousand different directions at once.

_I let Professor Snape hug me. I let him comfort me, and I didn't want him to move away from me. I wanted him to stay, and hold me and just touch me. I always want him to touch me, and be with him and I always want to be with him. I want him to hold me again and never let me go. I can trust him. I feel safe with him. Like I used to when Cedric-_

Harry's head snapped up, realization suddenly dawning on him. "Oh Merlin," he breathed, his heart in his throat. "Oh Merlin, I'm in love with him."

* * *

_Haha! How's that for a cliffhanger? Up the next chapter: Harry talks with Hermione about his new-found love for our resident dungeon bat and what the hell is up Draco Malfoy's arse? Stay tuned for our next installment of _New Perspective!_ Anyway, read, review, send love. You know the drill. Love and kisses and Nutella to you all!_


	11. Chapter 11

_**New Perspective (Or the New-Found Adoration of Severus Snape)**_

_**Chapter **__**Eleven – The Aching in My Heart**_

_A/N: So, we're up into the double digits, my loyal readers! It's a fantastic feeling. I'm sorry that so many of you thought my cliffhanger last chapter was really cruel. I know it was. That's why I did it to you. Haha. Cuz I'm a bitch like that. But I do love you guys. All of your reviews and words of kindness and love encourage me to continue writing. I have been on an Ellie Goulding listening rampage. She's been the only thing that I've been listening to for the past…three days. Turning away from that, I'm thinking of setting up a Tumblr page, but right now my computer is being stupid. I'll let you all know when I get it up (haha, mind out of the gutter, guys). I'm trying to decide if I'll use that as a fan page, where you all can fawn over me, or something else. I've never used Tumblr, so any help would be appreciated. _

"_My Blood", "Figure 8", and "Only You" by the illustrious Ellie Goulding helped this chapter._

_Once again, don't own. Woe is me._

* * *

"I'm in love with Severus Snape," Harry said aloud incredulously, staring out across the Lake without seeing. The shapes of the tree line began to blur together into a large mix of green and black, the sunlight breaking in with rays that burned at his eyes.

_I'm in love with him,_ his mind whispered, its voice as soft as a whisper. His heart throbbed roughly, the pain of it nearly making him cry out. His stomach twisted up into knots, his blood roaring in his ears as his heart began to race. Suddenly, his nerves began to tingle with sensation, twisting and squirming in his body as if they were alive.

Harry gasped as the sensation grew stronger, his vision dancing with colours, bright streaks of reds and golds combining with blacks and blues, greens and silvers and violets and oranges peeking in and out as he tried to make sense of the jumble in front of him. Each colour had its own taste, the red a fiery cinnamon, the black a strong mint, the silver a sweet chocolate. Harry's eyes widened as he realised that this was his magic, swirling and tumbling around him in violent patterns.

Slowly, he rose to his feet, reaching his hand out to touch one of the black strands that passed by his face. It ghosted over his skin like silk, the caress sending shivers down his spine. It felt rough and smooth at the same time, almost like…

_His hands._

His magic began to swirl faster, each strand of colour burning brighter, his nerves dancing. He felt giddy, drunk off of his magic. He smiled, running his hands through the colours, his grin growing wider when each touch somehow reminded Harry of _him._

_I love him. I love him. I love him._

_Severus Snape._

His heart and mind sang it, repeating it over and over like mantra. His heart raced a little faster, a faint sheen of sweat covering his body from his magic's frenzy. It whipped playfully at his hair, tearing softly at his clothes, feeling like a pleasant breeze on a summer's day.

He stretched his arms to the side, tilting his head back to drink in the magic. He closed his eyes and let the magic wash over him, starting at the crown of his head and slowly making its way to the palms of his hands and the balls of his feet.

Slowly, his magic abated, draining itself away from him, leaving him flushed and feeling more alive than he ever had before. His heart slowed, his breath evening out. He opened his eyes, the sun's rays warming his face pleasantly.

He stared up at the sky, the light blue colour paling in comparison to the rich blues he had just seen. Every colour would never look the same to him, after seeing such a magnificent display of colour and power. Power that _he_ had created.

Harry laughed quietly, flexing his fingers and arms, the tingling in his veins subsiding. He found that he missed it, having rather enjoyed the sensation. He recalled the black strands that he had felt, the black sliding smoothly, much like Snape-

_No. Severus,_ his mind whispered. _Not Snape. Severus._

-much like Severus' voice. Like his eyes, his skin. Everything about him. Severus had been present in his magic, in everything in his magic. It was as if Severus had inspired his magic to manifest, producing a wonderful display. Harry knew that he was a powerful wizard, but his magic had never done that before.

"I'm in love with Severus Snape," he repeated, his voice a whisper, the words flowing from his mouth without the slightest hesitation. Before, he might have thought he had lost his mind, he would have thought that he was under a spell, or he would have denied it.

But it was so _right _to say them. He had no reason to deny it, no reason to push it aside. He could have said it to himself all day, repeating it over and over and the words would still send a small thrilling jolt of emotion through him.

He _loved_ Severus Snape. The man who he thought he hated and who he thought hated him in return. The man who risked his life to ensure that Harry would live, time after time, no matter the stake. The greasy git, the dungeon bat, the cross, snarky Potions professor.

_Harry loved him. He loved him._

His core sang out in pleasure, the force almost sending his sprawling into the dirt. He laughed again, straightening out his shirt, rolling his shirt sleeves up. As he rolled the right one up, Harry's eyes widened and he gasped, staring at the skin in shock.

The image of a bird, a raven perhaps, was just below his wrist, the black planes startling against the paleness of his skin. It looked as if it were a tattoo, one that hadn't been there until after…

After his magic flared.

"What have you gotten yourself in to now, Potter?" he asked himself, staring at his wrist as he turned and hurried back up to the castle. He knew Hermione might have some answers.

* * *

"Hermione, I swear to Merlin and every other Wizarding deity that I'm going to bind you to the chair if you don't stop pacing," Ginny threatened from her seat, not looking up from the game of chess she and Luna were in the middle of. "You're making it hard to concentrate."

"Harry is fine," Luna added, her big blue eyes blinking lazily as she ruthlessly took Ginny's pawns. "The Flibbering Wizbits are with him. They won't let anything happen to him." She smiled faintly when Ginny stuck her tongue out. "Check."

"Please, Mione, you're going to wear a hole in the floor," Neville said, trying to placate his visibly anxious girlfriend. "Harry can take care of himself. He said he was just going for a walk around the Lake and that he would be back. He should be back anytime now."

"You don't understand," Hermione argued, continuing her pacing in front of the fireplace. "This is _Harry_ we're talking about. If it even remotely smells like trouble, then it finds him. I know you all felt that spike in his magic the same as I did."

"Oh, Ginny, checkmate. Harry's magic spikes all of the time, Hermione," Luna said, holding out her hand to collect the two Galleons that Ginny owed her.

"Well, yes," Hermione conceded, nibbling at her thumb nail nervously. "But it only flares like that when he's upset or angry. Something must have happened." She huffed, a little crease appearing between her eyebrows.

"I want a rematch, Luna," Ginny said, her face fixed in determination. "Mione, please, do you honestly think something bad would have happened to Harry and we wouldn't know about it? The castle would be in shambles right now if it had. So stop pacing, sit down, and snog Neville or something. It's making me dizzy watching you."

Neville felt his cheeks flush a little, and noticed that Hermione's had turned bright red. "Mione, please, just come sit down," he said, scooting over a little to make more room for her. Hermione nodded, ducking her head meekly and sitting beside him, drawing her knees up to her chest.

"I'm just worried about him," she said quietly. "This has been a hard morning for him."

"Well, you worrying about him is only going to upset him more," Ginny said, before crowing victoriously when she took a few of Luna's pieces. "Speaking of upsetting, where's my brother? I haven't seen his lovely face since breakfast."

"He went down to the library," Neville said, wrapping an arm around Hermione's shoulders and nestling her into his side. "I'm not sure what for." Neville had an inkling that Ron had been following a rather sick-looking Draco Malfoy, but he kept that speculation to himself. That was Ron's business.

Ginny frowned when Luna called "check" once more, shaking her head and throwing her hands up in defeat. "Well, he'll resurface eventually," she said, sounding put-out. "One more game?"

"Ginny, the Wrackspurts say that you will continue to lose," Luna said gently, setting the board up once again. "But we can play again. I do enjoy watching the Sizzlebubs glow when you get angry." She smiled easily when Ginny glared at her, gesturing for the red-haired girl to make the first move.

"Sizzlebubs?" Neville whispered to Hermione.

"Never heard of them," Hermione muttered back, resting her head on Neville's shoulder. "I just hope Harry's alright."

"I'm sure he is," Neville said, pressing a kiss to her temple. "It's been a rough day, and he just needs a little time alone. Some time to clear his head. He'll be back when he's calmed down and needs some comfort." He smiled when she nodded, the worry line between her eyebrows disappearing. He rubbed her arm reassuringly, resting his cheek on the top of her head.

"You're cheating, Luna!" Ginny cried, drawing the couple's attention to the heated chess game in front of them. They laughed at the outraged expression on Ginny's face, which was the complete opposite of Luna's poker face.

"It isn't cheating when the Wrackspurts help you," Luna said seriously, her eyes glowing with victory. "They say that you must work on your chess skills before they help you in turn."

Ginny stared at the Ravenclaw girl in front of her, her mouth hanging open. "I'm not that bad of a chess player!" she spluttered, her pale face flushing a bright red that clashed with her hair colour.

Hermione giggled politely behind her hand and Neville hid his with a cough, the both of them trying not to upset Ginny any further.

"You're a much better chess player than Harry is," Luna said, pocketing the Galleons she had won. "He has no sense of strategy whatsoever, and he's a bit reckless. The Wrackspurts like to beat him whenever we play together."

Hermione rolled her eyes, snuggling in deeper to Neville's embrace. She loved Luna dearly, having become much closer to her over the summer, but sometimes the eccentric girl exasperated her. She had long ago given up on trying to prove to Luna that things such as Crumpled Horn Snorkacks and Wrackspurts didn't exist. It only ended it nasty arguments.

Luna, who had began to braid a sullen Ginny's hair, suddenly looked up at the portrait hole, her cloudy blue eyes bright with a clearness that Hermione had never seen before. A satisfied smile crossed the blonde girl's face seconds before the portrait hole opened and a disheveled-looking Harry stepped through.

"Hello there, Harry," she said brightly, running her fingers through Ginny's hair and undoing the braid. "Did you enjoy your walk around the Lake?" Hermione frowned at the calculating, knowing smile on Luna's face. The blonde girl knew something that she wasn't going to share.

"Wha-? Oh, yes," Harry said, running a hand through his hair distractedly. He looked down at his feet and then back up, biting his lip as if he were unsure of something. "Um, Luna, Gin, do you mind if I talk to Hermione and Neville? Alone?"

Luna's smile widened, her pale fingers disappearing into Ginny's hair. "Harry, your aura is glowing," she said simply, making no move to get up. "The Wrackspurts approve of this." Her blue eyes met Harry's, sparkling in a way that was completely Luna.

"Luna?" Hermione asked, sitting up when she saw the dumbstruck, helpless expression on Harry's face. "Luna, what's going on? Harry?" She looked between the two of them, an unfamiliar feeling of confusion building up in her.

Luna blinked owlishly at her, a satisfied smirk curling at her lips. She pressed her cheek to the top of Ginny's head, shaking hers minutely and gesturing vaguely with her fingers towards Harry. Hermione's brow furrowed in confusion at the silent staring contest between the blonde and Harry.

"Harry James Potter," she started quietly, her confusion starting to give way to irritation. "What in Merlin's name is going on here?"

Harry flushed, a sheepish expression on his face, and he rubbed at the back of his head absently. "Well...Mione," he said, shifting his weight awkwardly. "You see…"

"Harry's found his soulmate," Luna said, smiling widely at Harry, whose eyes widened comically. She lifted her head, smoothing down Ginny's ruffled hair. "The Wrackspurts were positively buzzing when he came in. I'm surprised it took him this long to figure it out."

"Soul mate?" Neville asked, his arm slipping off of Hermione's shoulders as he sat forward. When Luna and Harry began to speak at once, he lifted a hand to silence them all. "One at a time, alright? Harry, please, you start."

Harry opened his mouth, before closing it and covering his face. "I…I went for a walk, like I said," he said, rubbing at his eyes. "And…Professor Snape found me sitting underneath a tree." He paused, biting his lip. "He asked me if I was alright, and I yelled at him like an idiot."

Hermione rolled her eyes, shaking her head at Harry. "Of course you would," she muttered, pantomiming zipping her lips shut when Harry glared at her.

"Anyway…he…he basically told me to suck it up because I've been through worse. And…he hugged me." He stopped as Hermione and Ginny both let out a very loud, very high-pitched, synchronized, "WHAT?!"

"Harry, did you just say that the dungeon bat…_hugged _you?" Ginny exclaimed, her brown eyes wide with shock.

"Don't call him that," Harry snarled, grasping at his right wrist. "He's not a dungeon bat!" Ginny recoiled at the ferocity in his voice, wincing in apology. Harry sighed and spoke again, purposely softening his voice. "I'm sorry, Gin. I didn't mean to snap. But yes, he hugged me. And then he left, and…my magic went…crazy."

Luna's eyes were shining with excitement as she leaned around Ginny, staring at Harry with an intensity that reminded him of Hermione when she was learning something new. The brunette girl was staring at Harry with rapt attention, while Neville looked slightly lost.

"My body felt like it was tingling all over, like I had pins and needles – but it wasn't painful or anything – and my heart was racing," Harry continued, his excitement evident. His face was flushed once more, his green eyes glowing brightly. "And Mione! My magic started swirling around me, and I could see all of these colours! And the red was so bright, much brighter than any red I think I've ever seen before in my life! And the black…" Harry suddenly paused, catching himself from rambling on any further.

"Go on, Harry," Hermione urged. "What happened next?"

"I could feel every strand," Harry said, grinning widely. "Each strand, it was amazing! Each one felt different, and they all… They were all so different and strange, but it fantastic."

"You mean you could feel your magic?" Hermione asked, her tone a little envious. "Harry, only some of the most powerful wizards in the world can do that. How did you do it?"

"I don't know!" he exclaimed, feeling overwhelmed suddenly. "It didn't start until I told myself that I…" Harry's eyes met Hermione's directly as he said, "Until I told myself that I'm in love with Professor Snape."

* * *

He was drinking a cup of tea when he felt the call to his magic. The porcelain cup shattered on the floor as it fell from his hands, the lukewarm liquid splattering onto the hem of his robes. For this once, he couldn't be bothered with something as simple as a broken tea cup.

He stood up, his hand automatically going to his right wrist, where the image of a proud falcon rested. He hadn't thought about the tattoo for days now, ignoring it when he dressed with a practiced ease. Now, it buzzed with an energy that was not his own, urging him to join the one who was calling out to him.

Severus forced himself to remain where he was, though refusing the call of his soulmate's magic was even more difficult now that they had become aware of the bond. Before, it had been like a nuisance, like an errant itch that one could ignore after a while.

Now, now it was intoxicating, brushing over him like warm silk, calling to him. It was dark and powerful, swirling and roiling around him, begging for him to answer to it, to find the other and join their magics. That was what his mind and his heart wanted, and it was draining to refuse them.

He knew that it was for the best that he wait. It would be better for his soulmate to seek him, to look for him when they were ready, when they were absolutely sure, rather than the other way around.

Severus stared at the walls of his office, sitting back down at his desk without seeing anything. He wished that for once in his life, things could be simple. That everything didn't have to come at a price, that being able to live freely didn't have its risk.

That his soulmate was not Harry Potter.

* * *

_Oh my God. You guys. You have no idea how much fucking work it took to write this damn chapter. I've been working on it for the better part of a week and a half, and nothing seemed to work. The soulmates idea actually came to me this evening, and it took my THREE AND A HALF FUCKING HOURS to write the first part to make sure that it was perfect for you guys. THAT IS HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU PEOPLE. Anyway, sorry there was no Draco and Ron in this chapter. I didn't think that it fit in very well, so we shall see them next chapter! Until then, my loves! Read, review, send love. Love and kisses and Nutella to you all!_


	12. Chapter 12

_**New Perspective (Or the New-Found Adoration of Severus Snape)**_

_**Chapter Twelve – Keep Following the Heartlines**_

_A/N: 'Ello, 'ello, 'ello! How are you all, my dearest minions? The last chapter was equally painfully hard and surprisingly fun to write. I slaved over it and it paid off in the end, didn't it? I was rather proud of it, and you all seemed to like the soulmates idea. Don't worry, that will be explained in further detail. Well, on to the chapter as I sit here, drinking hot green tea and wearing my hipster shoes and sweater. Stereotypical, right?_

"_Heartlines" by Florence & the Machine, "We Both Go Down Together" by the Decemberists, and "Fade Into You" by Mazzy Star wrote this chapter._

_Alas, I am not J.K. Rowling. If I were, I'd be vacationing in Paris right now with my friends. _

* * *

It had never been his intention to fall in love with Harry Potter. He had never wanted this bond, never wanted anything like this to happen to him. He had wanted to continue on with his life, living as a double agent, always alone, but without any other complications.

He had built a stable life – delicate and flimsy as it was – around himself, one that he was content with. He would have carried on as normal, not ever giving anyone reason to doubt that there was something wrong with him.

Severus was not proud of the choices he had made, but he had made them and he intended to see them through, even if they killed him in the end. That was the type of man he was.

He knew that he was sarcastic and dour, generally unpleasant to most, and that it did not win him any favours from the rest of the world. His aloof personality made it nigh on impossible for others to come into his life, but he was never bothered by it. Apart from Lily, he had never had any real friends, no one that he could speak with about his problems, and that suited him fine.

But then Harry blasted Potter came into his life and turned everything upside down.

Until the end of the boy's fifth year, Severus had held him in the worst of mentalities, thinking that he was exactly like his father, though he knew deep down that it was an unfair judgment. All he could see when he looked at Harry Potter was James Potter, leering at him, waving his popularity and wealth into Severus' face.

In truth, Harry was much more like Lily, caring and open-hearted, though the boy had closed himself off after his fourth year, when the Diggory boy had been killed. Harry held his friends closest to him, having been the only real family the boy had ever known. The Weasley clan, as well as Lupin and the mutt, were also part of his hodge-podge family, and they were the most important people in the boy's life. Their safety and well-being was the most important thing to Harry, and he placed their happiness over his own.

Yet, while he was similar to Lily, his personality was all his own. Reckless and stupid, like James, yes, but he had an inner maturity that made its presence known at the right times. Harry drew people to him like moths to a flame, burning bright in their eyes. He was someone you could trust, someone who desperately tried to believe in the best of people. He was selfless, brash and stubborn as an ox, and wore his heart on his sleeve.

Knowing that about him made Severus fall even harder for Harry. It was like disease, slowly worming its way into his mind and his heart, keeping him awake at night, his thoughts a chaotic and indiscernible mess.

It had began, this attraction, the night that Lupin and the mutt had contacted Severus, begging him for his help. He had originally thought that Harry had been vying for attention, lying about his nightmares and headaches. But then he had heard the boy cry out in his sleep, and it sounded as if he were being tortured.

He would never forget the sight he had stumbled upon when he entered Harry's bedroom. Harry was as pale as death, the bluish veins in his face visible as he writhed and twisted in the sheets, covered in a heavy sweat. His face was contorted in pain as he screamed, the sound wordless and bone-chilling. Not sure of any other way of handling it, Severus had grabbed the boy by the shoulders and shook him roughly, fighting back a sigh of relief when Harry finally opened his eyes.

The fear in those emerald depths was powerful and raw, and Severus felt a pang in his heart just looking at them. He had seen that look before, in others that had been subjected to the ruthlessness of the Dark Lord. Severus could feel Harry shaking in his hands as he pulled away, throwing snarling words at him to cover the confusion that had sprung up within him.

He had locked himself in his office that night, drinking down half a glass of Firewhiskey, trying to forget the haunted fear in Potter's eyes. It made his heart, which he had long thought dead and cold, clench painfully. Severus dreaded trying to find the reason for his reaction, already having inkling as to what it was. He continued thinking about Harry, almost to the point of driving him insane. Every train of thought ended and began with Potter, and he wasn't able to make heads or tails of it.

When the new school year had started up, he had noticed that Harry looked drawn and tired, despite the glowing smile on his face. There were dark circles under his eyes, like he hadn't slept in weeks. Severus felt a tad guilty, having left Grimmauld Place without giving the boy something to defend his mind with in the weeks before the new term.

He pushed Harry Potter to the back of his mind when he laid eyes on Draco Malfoy, who looked like death warmed over. The ordinarily arrogant and posh boy was thin, his normally pale skin yellow and gaunt, and his clothes hung off of his frame as if they were too big for him. His eyes were dead and hollow as they locked with Severus' and Severus immediately knew something was wrong.

He would have to forget about Harry Potter and focus on Draco, who required his help more than the Boy-Who-Lived. He feared that Lucius was pushing the boy to receive the Dark Mark, and that, each day that Draco delayed, his temper grew.

Draco had not approached him for help, nor had he written Severus during the summer, and he assumed that it was not going to be easy to prod the boy into speaking to him. He was Malfoy, and those damned Malfoys held on to their pride with a blazing ferocity.

He had been thinking through a plan to speak with Draco when Harry had collapsed in his class, the raven-haired boy once again becoming his priority. He resolved to deal with Draco later as he lifted Harry into his arms, barking out instructions for his students.

As he carried Harry to the infirmary, it had occurred to him that he could have simply levitated the boy out of the classroom, rather than carry him, but something felt inherently wrong about that. It confused Severus deeply, and he stood by for a few moments as Poppy fussed over a still unconscious Harry. The mediwitch snapped at him to leave, shooing him with a gesture that he normally would have found aggravating.

Throughout the day, the scene of Harry collapsing kept replaying in his mind, distracting him from his work, and in the end he had just snapped at his classes, telling them to follow the instructions on the board – which he had thankfully remembered to change every class – and not to bother him.

He had returned to the infirmary after speaking with Dumbledore, reporting Harry's collapse to the Headmaster and agreeing to begin the Occlumency lessons as soon as they could. He knew that Harry had been surprised to see Severus there, but he felt that he had to be there when Harry awoke.

It was that night that he finally, after downing several glasses of his strongest Firewhiskey, acknowledged that he was in love with Harry Potter.

The effect had been almost simultaneous. His magic had flared up, spinning and swirling around him in patterns, strands of colour brushing against his skin as he watched it in wonder. There had been shades of purple and black, silver and blue, but what had stood out the most was the green. It was the precise shade of Harry's eyes, the bright emerald that made Severus feel weak in the knees at times.

When his magic had settled down, he had noticed the tattoo on his right wrist, the image of a proud falcon resting there as if it had been there his entire life. He immediately understood what this meant, but he dreaded it. He knew that a soulmate bond could go unfulfilled, that though someone was his soulmate, he was not theirs. It was an old and ancient magic, one that no one could truly ever hope to understand.

He had lashed out at Harry on the night of their first Occlumency lesson partially out of anger, partially out of desperation. He didn't want the bond with Harry Potter, he had never wanted it. He hoped that he could anger the boy enough that he would never want to see Severus again, but it had backfired on him.

The day that Romilda Vane, the arrogant, stupid little bint, had outed Harry to the entirety of Hogwarts, and, by extension, the Wizarding world, Severus had felt like his heart was breaking at the look on Harry's face. The fear, the apprehension, the anger…the boy's face was like an open book.

He had gone to Harry on his own accord, not even bothering to speak to Dumbledore on the matter. He couldn't bear to see Harry look so broken and defeated, especially when Severus knew that he was stronger than he thought. The emerald eyes that he knew would eventually become his downfall sparked with determination at the challenge Severus had given him, to prove that he was better than they were.

And then Harry blasted Potter went and fucked everything up by fulfilling the soulmate bond.

* * *

Ron paused outside of the library, his hands stuffed into his pockets uncertainly, biting his lip as he debated whether or not to go in. He knew that Malfoy had gone in there, but he felt apprehensive about following him. When Malfoy had left the Great Hall that morning, he'd had a letter clutched tightly in his hands and the look on his face had told Ron that it was important.

Ron sighed and started in to the library, ducking around Madame Pince with practiced ease, knowing that Malfoy often times retreated to the very back of the library, where the oldest books were. Hardly anyone who wasn't Hermione or the occasional Ravenclaw went back there, so it was the perfect place to hide.

Malfoy had run into the library after receiving the letter, his face white and drawn. He looked as if he had been about to vomit what little food he had managed to scarf down, and Ron felt his heart clench. Whatever it was had Malfoy upset greatly, and Ron wanted to know what it was.

He stopped prowling through the shelves when the sound of sobbing reached his ears. Ron peeked around the corner of a bookshelf, and his heart thumped painfully at the sight of tears rolling down Malfoy's face.

His pale blond hair was dishelved, standing up at odd ends like Malfoy had run his fingers through it several times, and his eyes were red and puffy, his cheeks stained with tears. It was obvious that Draco had been expecting this by the way he sat there, staring unseeingly at the letter in front of him. It had been opened, Malfoy's tears blurring the ink as they dripped from his face. Ron was too far away to read what it said, but-

"Weasley, you can come out," Malfoy said quietly, lifting his head from his hands to give Ron a sorrowful look. His voice was thick and muffled, and his grey eyes were so sad that it made Ron want to cry along with him. He gestured for Ron to take the empty seat across from him, which he did with slight hesitation.

This Malfoy was not the one that Ron knew, the Malfoy that would never openly cry or show any form of weakness in front of anyone. The Malfoy he knew would have hexed him where he stood for spying, would have said a biting comment about his family or his attire, not just sit there and allow Ron to watch him.

"I know you've been following me," Malfoy continued, lowering his eyes when he saw that Ron was watching him quizzically. "You aren't exactly the most subtle person, Weasley. I'm not blind." He fiddled with the edge of the parchment, sighing heavily.

Ron squirmed a little in his seat, feeling very uncomfortable with the conversation. He rubbed the back of his head as he tried to think of something to say. How exactly was he going to explain the incessant need for him to look after Draco's wellbeing? The overwhelming need to take the blond boy aside and assure him that he wasn't alone? "Look, Malfoy, I didn't-"

"My father's disowned me."

* * *

_Dun. Dun. DUUUUUN. Haha. I'm sorry that I haven't updated sooner. It's been a crazy past two weeks. First, grades were due to my teachers, so I was busy making up assignments and studying, and doing my best to get good grades on my report card. And my birthday was this past Thursday. I just turned sixteen. Woohoo! Anyway, I hope this chapter will be good enough to hold you over. Until next time! Read, review, send love. Love and kisses and Nutella to you all!_


	13. Chapter 13

_**New Perspective (Or the New-Found Adoration of Severus Snape)**_

_**Chapter Thirteen –No Light, No Light **_

_A/N: Not really much to bitch about in this note. Except for the weather. It's been really damn cold outside, and it's the end of March. Fuck winter. So, up this chapter, we finally find out what's up Draco Malfoy's arse. (Mind out of the gutter, guys)_

"_Awake My Soul" by Mumford & Sons, "No Light, No Light" by Florence & the Machine, and "You Only Live Once" by the Strokes wrote this chapter._

_I am not, as previously stated, J.K. Rowling. Unfortunately. _

* * *

_Draco opened and closed his hand methodically, wincing when the muscles seized up and began to spasm. He gritted his teeth and forced his fingers to relax, using his left hand to pry his closed fist open. It had been a week since his father last used the Cruciatus curse on him, and his hand still hadn't fully healed. Draco suspected there was nerve damage and he fervently hoped that it was treatable._

_His ring finger and pinky twitched, making him grimace. He had been able to hide the injury to his hand quite well from his mother, and his father couldn't have been bothered. Draco could have walked around with the same hand missing and Lucius would only instruct him not to bleed on the carpets._

"_Draco? Are you in here?"_

_Draco cursed under his breath, trying to find somewhere to place his hand. He opened a relatively thick tome in front of him, sliding it into his lap and concealing his hand under the spine, wrapping his fingers around the leather bindings._

"_Draco? Dragon, are you- Oh, there you are Draco."_

_Narcissa smiled at her son as she came into the library, though it was a tight, pained smile that he knew she only used in front of his father. Her hands were clasped in front of her, her thumb brushing over her signet ring nervously. Draco sat up a bit straighter, his expression hardening._

"_What is it, Mother?"_

"_Your father had returned."_

_For a moment, Draco felt a white hot flame of fear pass through him, but he quelled it and closed the book, feeling his hand tighten once again. "I hadn't expected him to be back so early," he said simply, setting the book down with difficulty. His fingers were locked around the spine._

"_He's in the sitting room," Narcissa informed him, her eyes zeroing in on his hand. "He wishes to speak with the both of us."_

_Draco nodded, frowning as he tried to release his hand._

"_Draco, what are you – oh, my Dragon," Narcissa breathed as she approached the table. Her small hands gently pried the book away, staring at Draco's clenched fingers. "Why did you not tell me about this?" _

"_I didn't want to worry you," he said quietly, willing his hand to relax. He caught her sharp glare, and shook his head at her. "Please, Mother, don't pay it any mind. Father is waiting for us."_

_Narcissa nodded sharply, taking Draco's offered arm. "We will speak about this later, Draco," she said sternly, her tone leaving no room for argument as she led them out of the library. "I do not like you keeping things from me, Dragon. Especially things like this."_

"_I know, Mother," Draco said. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to worry you anymore than you had to." His fingers twitched again, but he hid it by flexing his hand. "It doesn't hurt, honestly. It stopped hurting a few days ago."_

_Narcissa sighed. "Oh, Draco, what am I going to do with you?" she asked rhetorically. She smiled warmly at her son, an expression he returned, until tears formed in her eyes. "Dragon, I want you to promise me something."_

_Taken aback by the sudden change, Draco nodded. "What is it?" he asked._

"_I want you to try not to make your father angry today," she whispered, her blue eyes filled with fear. "There is something strange about the way he is acting. Please, do not make him angry. I cannot bear to see you under the Cruciatus curse once again."_

_Draco nodded, his eyes widened fractionally. "I promise, Mother," he swore, though he knew it was a fruitless action. Lucius would no doubt found something that would anger him and he would have no qualms about taking it out on Draco._

"_I love you, my Dragon," she said, stopping to straighten the collar of his button-down shirt. "You've grown up to be so handsome." She leaned forward to kiss his cheek, trying to contain herself. _

_They entered the sitting room to find Lucius sitting in his customary chair, still clad in his Death Eater robes, a glass of merlot in one hand and his walking stick in the other. His cold grey eyes raked over the two of them, critical and calculating._

"_How nice of the two of you to join me," he said icily, setting his glass down. "Please, sit. We have much to discuss."_

_Draco and Narcissa shared one last glance before she sat in her chair next to Lucius' and Draco sat stiffly on the lounge directly across from his father. He clasped his hands together on his lap to keep them from shaking, knowing that Lucius would take them as a sign of weakness._

"_The Dark Lord and I spent the afternoon discussing your future, Draco," Lucius began, shifting in his seat so that his legs were crossed. "He was most pleased to hear of your eagerness to join his ranks."_

_Draco fought back the urge to snort, knowing full well that it was his father's own eagerness that he join the Dark Lord and his merry band of sycophants. He said nothing, patiently waiting for his father to continue speaking._

"_I told him that you had planned on receiving the Dark Mark at the beginning of the summer," Lucius continued, pausing to take a sip of his wine. "But I had urged you to focus on your studies." Narcissa coughed quietly, hiding the noise behind her hand. It had only been at her interference that Draco had not received the Dark Mark when summer began._

"_The Dark Lord informed me that if you were to join his ranks, then we would have the chance to redeem our family after my…failings at the Ministry." Lucius pinned Draco with a steely grey gaze, his eyes like chips of ice. "He had given you a task to complete before the end of the school year."_

_Draco heard Narcissa gasp almost inaudibly as he stared at his father, the blood draining from his face. A pit of dread formed in his stomach, a wave of nausea building up within him. "What is the task, Father?" Draco asked before he could stop himself. _

_Looking pleased at his son's reaction, Lucius smiled coyly. "You, my son, are to kill Albus Dumbledore. And when you have succeeded, you shall be given the Dark Mark, and proclaimed as one of the Dark Lord's inner circle."_

You are to kill Albus Dumbledore.

"_Isn't that wonderful, Draco?" Narcissa asked, her voice high and tight. Draco knew that she was frightened, but he hardly heard her over the sound of blood roaring in his ears. "The Dark Lord is entrusting you with your very own mission."_

"_It is the highest honour one outside the inner circle could hope to receive, Draco," Lucius said sternly, sipping at his wine. "This will do great things for our family, my son, and you will fulfill this task."_

_Draco unclenched his hands, leaning back against the lounge, feeling like the room was spinning. He was not a killer, he wasn't. He wasn't his father, a proud wizard who had stooped low enough to follow a deranged half-blood hell-bent on destroying the Wizarding world. He would not follow in his father's footsteps, no matter the consequences. _

"_No," he said, interrupting the conversation that Lucius and Narcissa had started. _

_Lucius paused, slowly turning his head to look at his son. "No?" he repeated softly, sitting up straight in his chair. His grip on his walking stick tightened, and his eyes blazed with menace._

"_No," Draco repeated, more firmly this time. He stood up, standing over his father with a sudden surge of determination. "I will not become a follower of the Dark Lord and I will not kill Albus Dumbledore. I am not a killer."_

_A snarl appeared on Lucius' face as he pulled his wand out, training it on Draco. "You dare defy the wishes of the Dark Lord, you insolent brat?" he hissed._

"_Lucius, please-"_

"_Shut your mouth, Narcissa," he snapped, standing as well. He looked back at Draco, who was glaring at him in defiance, his head held high. "You will be labeled a traitor, Draco, if you refuse this."_

"_Then let me be a traitor!" Draco shouted. "I will not become a killer!"_

"_I have had enough of your insolence!" Lucius roared, brandishing his wand. "_Crucio!"

_Despite having prepared himself for the oncoming pain, Draco could not muffle the cry that escaped his lips as he crumpled to the floor, feeling as if all of his bones were breaking simultaneously. He bit through his lip to keep from shouting, blood pouring down his chin._

"_Lucius! Stop this!"_

"_It is time that our son learned his place, Narcissa!"_

"Stupefy!"

_The pain suddenly vanished, leaving Draco on the floor gasping for air. His mother stood over him, her hair falling in her face, her chest heaving with anger. Her wand was held at the ready, aimed directly at the now unconscious Lucius. _

"_M-Mother," Draco croaked, his throat feeling as if it were on fire._

"_Oh, my Dragon," Narcissa sobbed as she fell to her knees beside him, lifting him into a sitting position. His whole body was trembling violently as she hugged him to her, her tears flowing down onto his neck. "I am so sorry, Draco. I could not let him do that to you again."_

* * *

Ron stared open-mouthed at Malfoy, trying to wrap his mind around what he had just been told. Disownment was often a subject of taboo, especially amongst the pureblooded Wizarding families. It was just as rare as a divorce, and was often regarded as a drastic step. It meant that your child had done something so grievous against the family that it was impossible to reconcile. It wasn't often that children, especially the heirs of the family, were disowned.

"H-he…he did what?" Ron spluttered, mentally wincing when he realised how stupid the question sounded.

Draco didn't answer him, staring at the parchment in front of him. He had turned deathly pale, and he didn't seem to be breathing. His eyes were unfocused, and Ron noticed that his right hand was seizing up in a half-fist.

"Malfoy?" he asked quietly, leaning forward in his seat. "Malfoy?"

He stood, going around the table to touch Malfoy on the shoulder lightly. Malfoy flinched away from him violently, his breath coming in ragged pants. Tears began to flow from Malfoy's eyes, and Ron noticed that they turned a bluish hue when he cried.

"…going to kill me…"

"What?" Ron asked, not quite understanding what Malfoy was mumbling.

"He's going to kill me…Mother…he's going to…"

"Malfoy, you're not making any sense," Ron said, his brow wrinkling in confusion. He knew that Malfoy wasn't acting like himself, but what was this? Malfoy was shaking under his hand, his own still twisted in that odd position. "Malfoy."

"Please…please…"

"Alright, Malfoy, let's get you out of here," Ron said, sliding an arm around Malfoy's shoulders and lifting him up, taking his wand out with his free hand to cast a Notice-Me-Not charm around them, thanking Hermione silently for all of the tutelage. "We're going to go to the Room of Requirement, alright? Just…I don't know…keep calm, yeah?"

Malfoy was muttering under his breath, his sentences broken and filled with pleas, as Ron half-walked, half-carried up to the Room, dragging his dead weight up and down the hall three times.

_I need place to help Malfoy, I need a place to help Malfoy, I need a place to help Malfoy. _

He looked over his shoulder as the door to the Room opened, making sure no one saw it as he and Malfoy slipped in.

The Room was smaller than any other time that Ron had been in there, about the size of the Gryffindor common room. There was a hearth with a fire roaring in it, and a green lounge sitting in front of the fire. Not knowing what else to do, Ron set him down on the lounge, helping him lay down. He kneeled next to Malfoy's head, smoothing his hair out of his face.

Malfoy was still crying, though the tears had lessened, and his breathing was somewhat back to normal. Without thinking, Ron reached out and stroked Malfoy's right hand, coaxing the muscles to relax and return to normal. He hushed Malfoy, much like his mother would whenever he was upset, keeping his voice soft and even.

Eventually, though Ron didn't know exactly how much time had passed, Malfoy's breathing evened out, and his hands had stopped trembling. He stared up at the ceiling for a few moments, silent, until he said, "I never thought I'd say this, but…thank you, Weasley."

"No, uh, no problem," Ron muttered, drawing his hand away and setting it on his own leg, looking down at the floor.

"You going to run off and tell Potter that the great Draco Malfoy was crying like a baby?" Malfoy asked, his voice harsh. "I bet that'll make him laugh. He's already got you watching me everywhere I go. Is this what he wanted?"

Ron gaped at Malfoy, his mouth hanging open unattractively. He snapped it shut and glared at Malfoy. "Harry doesn't even know I'm here," he argued hotly, stinging at the jab at his best friend. "He wouldn't put me up to anything, Malfoy. He's hardly even mentioned you at all this year."

"Well, that's a first," Malfoy muttered, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling. The look of anger fell from his face as he sighed. "What happened in the library, Weasley?"

Ron furrowed his brow in confusion. "You mean you don't remember?" he asked, earning him a shake of the head from Malfoy. "You told me your dad disowned you, and then you started acting…weird. You started shaking, and your hand did this weird…convulsing thing, and you started saying stuff like 'He's going to kill me' and you were pleading about something. And something about your mother."

Malfoy's face paled, and he sat up, slowly, his hand gripping the back of the lounge to keep himself upright. "And you brought me here? Where am I?" he demanded.

"You're in the Room of Requirement," Ron answered. "And I couldn't very well just leave you in the library like…like that." His cheeks flushed fiercely, and he kept his gaze firmly on the ground. "What…what happened to you?"

"That, Weasley," Malfoy answered with a hint of exasperation as he swept his legs off of the lounge, "was a panic attack."

"A what?"

"A panic attack," Malfoy repeated, running a hand through his hair. "I've been getting them since… It's none of your business, Weasley."

"Look, Malfoy," Ron snapped, glaring at Malfoy once more. "You haven't been yourself this year. You're always alone, you never eat, and you always have this look to you like you expect someone to pop up behind you and attack you. You look like death, and so far in this conversation once you haven't insulted me or my family personally. There's something wrong with you, and I want to know what it is!"

A tense silence fell between them as Malfoy stared at Ron with an unreadable expression. Finally, he asked, "Why do you want to know?"

Ron stood up, shaking his head. "I don't know, Malfoy. I really don't. I wish I did. I just…You look like you need someone there for you, and no one had been ever since the beginning of the year. And I… I started watching you to make sure that you were alright."

Malfoy continued to stare at him before speaking, his voice almost inaudible. Ron had to kneel back down in order to hear him. "My father used the Cruciatus curse frequently on me throughout the summer whenever I displeased him. That's why my hand curls up in a fist sometimes." Malfoy held up his right hand, staring at in intently as he wiggled his fingers. "My mother would intercede on my behalf, telling my father that he'd only end up killing me if he continued. She wasn't able to do anything besides that."

Ron, without thinking, reached forward and took Malfoy's hand in both of his, smoothing it out. "Did he try to make you get the Mark?"

Malfoy nodded, keeping his face blank. "My mother convinced him to give me the summer, and he did, but he wasn't happy about it. A week before we were supposed to go back to school, he had a meeting with the Dark Lord, and he came back, telling me that the Dark Lord had a task for me before I took the Mark."

Ron kept his eyes on Malfoy's hand, silently marveling about how smooth his skin was. "What was it?"

Malfoy's voice was thick when he answered. "I was supposed to kill the Headmaster."

Ron looked up at him, alarmed. "What?" he cried, his hands tightening around Malfoy's.

"I told him that I wouldn't do it," Malfoy said quickly, bristling at Ron's outburst. "And that I wasn't going to take the Mark, or follow to Dark Lord. He used the Cruciatus on me again, but my mother Stunned him and we fled the Manor with what little belongings we had together. We went to London, but I stayed at the Leaky Cauldron, and she left the country. I haven't heard from her in three weeks."

Ron squeezed Malfoy's hand, speaking softly, "I'm sorry, Malfoy. I didn't…I didn't know."

"No one knows what happened," Malfoy said. "I've been having the panic attacks since my mother left. I haven't been able to stop worrying about her. I don't know if my father's found her, or if something's happened to her."

"I'm sure she's fine," Ron reassured him. "Do you know where she might have gone?"

"One of the Black residences in Europe," Malfoy said, shrugging his shoulders. "There were a few that Great Aunt Walburga gave to Mother as a wedding present. I don't know which one she would have gone to, though."

Ron nodded, his eyes on Malfoy's hand once again. "I can speak to Sirius," he said slowly. "He's the Head of the Black House, and he should probably have an idea of where she's gone. I'll write to him."

"He's Potter's godfather, though," Malfoy said, looking hesitant. "I don't want anyone finding out, least of all Potter."

"I'll ask him not to say anything," Ron promised. "Maybe he can offer you and her protection from your father, too. I'll write to him later tonight."

Malfoy nodded slowly, a bit of colour coming back to his face. "Th…thank you, Weasley," Malfoy said, quiet. "I… You, um, did well, with my…uh, attack. Thank you." Malfoy withdrew his hand from Ron's, running it through his hair nervously.

Ron couldn't help but smile. "Malfoy, if I'm going to be helping you, just call me Ron."

* * *

_Jesus, that chapter took such a long time to write. I hope that I didn't offend any of my readers that happen to suffer from panic attacks, and if I did, I apologise. Draco's attack is based off of what happens to me when I have a panic attack, and everyone's experience is different. I also apologise if Draco is a little OOC, but he needs to be. He's growing up from being the snotty, rotten bully and becoming a more mature person. I hope you enjoyed the Ron/Draco interaction. Read, review, send love. Love and kisses and Nutella to you all._


	14. Chapter 14

_**New Perspective (Or the New-Found Adoration of Severus Snape)**_

_Chapter 14 – With My Mouth So Full of Questions_

_A/N: Hello there, minions! I'm so sorry that it's taking so long to get chapters out. My muse just up and left me, and I've been crazy busy. I'm going to try my absolute hardest to get up to at least chapter…20 or so before June. But I've also got finals and standarised testing coming up in the next few weeks, so please bear with me. I'm also going to be gone for an extended period of time between June and July. I'm going to France and Old Blighty with some friends, and after I get back I'm going to an arts programme with my Peaches and Caramel Macchiato (a member of our harem). So, I will try to give you all the gift of lots of chapters before I depart. It may or may not happen, but A for effort, right?_

"_Give Me Love" by Ed Sheeran, "Broken Crown" by Mumford & Sons, and "Hold You in My Arms" by Ray LaMontagne wrote this chappie._

_I am not J.K. Rowling. I merely amuse myself by playing with the characters and world that she created._

* * *

Luna blinked slowly, her fingers playing idly with Ginny's hair as her friends sat down in the Room of Requirement, Neville and Hermione comfortably pressed together on a small loveseat, Ron perched on the arm of Harry's seat, Ginny sitting on the floor in front of her with her head leaning against Luna's knees. She could almost feel Harry's aura pulsing at her from where he sat, though she wasn't actually able to _feel _it, only read it.

She could see how restless his magic was, swirling up and down in confused, violent waves that was searching for something that would calm it. It brushed against Ronald and Hermione's, settling briefly before continuing on its circle, every thread of it twining together to form a multi-coloured sphere around Harry. There was so much confusion and vulnerability in it, wandering like a lost puppy. Luna felt a rush of sympathy for her dearest friend and wished to take him in her arms, but she couldn't. His aura would attach to hers and drain her core, leaving her without her magic.

Weeks before, when Harry had confessed his love for Professor Snape in front of them, she had warned Harry not to have prolonged physical contact with anyone, not when his bond was incomplete. As it was still searching for its other half, it could prematurely attach itself to someone who was _not _Harry's soulmate, and then the bond between Severus and Harry would sever itself. That would destroy the both of them, and Luna would never be able to live with herself knowing she had caused such misery.

She had thought that Harry would have gone to Severus straightaway, knowing how impulsive he was, but he hadn't, to her surprise. He seemed to be almost shy about it, waiting instead for Severus to approach him instead.

Luna loved him dearly, but Harry really could be incredibly dense sometimes.

She had seen Severus' (she had always called him Severus in her mind, knowing that one day he would be an important fixture in her life) aura, flowing thick with bright green strands the same colour as Harry's eyes, but it was tinged with sadness. He had so much sorrow within him, all of his regret and self-hatred leaving a bittersweet taste in her mouth whenever she looked at him. She knew everything that he had done, everything that he would do, and she knew that he was waiting for Harry.

Luna fought back a sigh as she played with a tangle she found in Ginny's hair, pulling the knot out gently. It was not her place to encourage Harry to go to Severus, nor vice versa, and it was slightly frustrating watching the two dancing around each other. She could see the love they had, new as it was, and wished for it to blossom into its full potential. It was be passionate and rich, even when they wanted to kill one another. It would take only death to separate them.

She knew that Severus had been avoided Harry, postponing their Occlumency lessons, acting as if Harry didn't exist in his classes. Harry often had to fight back the feelings of rejection that were spawning from this, and Luna often wanted to tear her hair out because of it.

If Luna had been able to have her way, they would have been together by now, in love and happy, the way they were meant to be. They deserved happiness more than anyone else that she knew. The two of them had suffered, lost loved ones, and yet still continued on, facing the world with a set jaw and strong heart. She admired their courage, hoping that she could emulate it.

Of course, when it came to matters of the heart, they were both hopeless idiots, but that only made Luna love them all the more. She cared a great deal for Severus, she always had. When she had first seen him, she knew straight away that he would become a person that she could trust with her life, as well as the lives of her friends. She had known everything, and she always spoke kindly of him, even when he was being a bastard.

Luna smiled sadly at Harry, who was idly tracing the pattern of his exposed tattoo, a faraway look in his eyes. She was so frustrated with him that she could throttle him, but she continued to run her fingers through Ginny's soft hair.

"There must be something," she heard Hermione say as she rejoined the group, closing off her Sight. The pulsating auras disappeared, as well as all of the feelings that accompanied them. She breathed quietly, feeling as if a weight had been thrown from her shoulders.

"There isn't," Harry said, looking up from his wrist. "We've looked in every single book, every damn section in the library. I sent an owl to Flourish and Blotts and they told me they had never even heard of soulmate bonds. There is nothing, Mione. Nothing." He brought his knees to his chest, curling into himself, averting his eyes.

Luna sighed, quelling her ministrations at Harry's sad, hollow voice. She could see the heavy bags under his eyes, the dull spark in the brilliant green depths, and knew that he had not been sleeping. How could he, when his heart and mind were constantly reaching out to Severus, begging and pleading with him to find his soulmate? Luna could sense the pain in Harry's body, the persistent, confused ache in his heart.

Her own heart twisted in her chest as she regarded him, wishing with every fibre of her being that she could tell him everything that she knew. But she was forced to stay her tongue, as she always had been required to do. It was the curse of the Seer, having to remain silent and watch the struggle of those closest to her.

"Harry, mate," Ron said suddenly, drawing surprised looks from everyone in the room as he slid from his perch onto the floor in front of Harry, touching his leg briefly to make Harry look at him. "Don't give up, alright? We'll find something, I know we will. We've got you and Mione and Neville, and you three are the smartest people I've ever met. We're going to figure this out." Ron's cheeks coloured slightly. "There has to be something out there that can help us, right?"

Luna mentally hummed in pleasure as Harry nodded slowly, a light in his eyes that wasn't there before. Luna blinked slowly, opening her Sight once more, a small smile of contentment curling her lips as she watched the bond between Harry and Ron strengthen itself, the small cracks filling in, mending, healing, growing stronger by the second.

Luna closed her eyes, letting the love between her friends wash over her, rejoicing that there was hope for Harry and Severus, after all.

* * *

_Ron,_

_You know that I have a less than stellar track record with my family, but I know you wouldn't ask me to do this unless you really meant it. If you trust Draco Malfoy, then I will respect your judgment, even if I don't agree with it. However, best mates with my godson or not, I will slowly dismember you if you-_

_Pay him no mind, Ronald. If you trust Draco, then I see no reason why we shouldn't as well. I believe that you would be able to tell if he was trying to deceive you, and so we will try to assist you as best as we can. Now, the other day, Sirius told me that he felt a disturbance from one of the wards in one of the many Black houses across Europe. I believe he said it was in Greece. If what you've told us is true, which I believe it is, we'll go there in the next few days to sort it out. Tell Draco that he has nothing to fear. We'll do our best to find his mother. Sirius may complain about his family, but I know that he still loves Narcissa like a sister._

_I have to run now. Sirius is attempting to chew the quill out of my hand. _

_Yours,_

_Remus and Sirius_

"What does he mean 'eat the quill out of my hand'?" Draco asked, his brow furrowed as he set the letter down.

Ron felt his lips twitch up into a smile as he stared up at the ceiling of the Room of Requirement, his long legs dangling off of the side of the loveseat he was sprawled on. "It's a rather long story," Ron said vaguely. "If you knew Sirius and Remus, you would understand." He felt that it wasn't his place to tell Draco that Sirius was an Animagus, and he knew that the man wouldn't appreciate Ron telling the son of one of the most prominent Death Eaters, even if Ron trusted him, one of his greatest secrets.

"I see," Draco said simply, folding the letter before casually tossing it into the fire. Ron, from where he was laying, with his feet by Draco's head, had a perfect view of Draco's face, and he watched it in rapt fascination.

Though Draco never realized it, his face was like an open book when his mask was not in place. Every emotion played across his face, by the furrowing of his brow or the twitch of his lips, the creasing of the skin around his eyes, and it entranced Ron. His eyes wandered down to Draco's lips, and he unconsciously swallowed heavily. They were full and pink, and they looked incredibly soft.

Ron averted his eyes to the ceiling when Draco turned his head slightly, praying that he hadn't caught him staring.

"Do you think they'll be able to find my mother?" Draco asked, his voice uncharacteristically small. He sounded like a frightened child, and Ron felt his heart ache for the boy in front of him.

"They'll find her," Ron said, trying to sound confident. He wanted to find Narcissa, to give her back to Draco, to make him smile. The thought sent Ron's heart fluttering, and he tried desperately to keep from blushing.

"I hope so," Draco muttered, pulling his robes around him tightly, shivering with a sudden chill. "It's cold in here."

Though he could have just made the Room warmer with a thought, Ron shifted to swing his legs around, careful to avoid hitting Draco in the head, and sat up on the loveseat, shrugging out of his robes. "Here," he said, slowly draping his robes over Draco's shoulders before the blond boy could protest. "This should help." His eyes flickered up and met Draco's, and he almost gasped when he realised how close their faces were.

Ron saw that there were flecks of ice blue surrounding Draco's pupils, making Draco's eyes brighter than Ron ever thought that they could be. He could see every thick, blond eyelash, count every-

Draco ducked his head shyly, a faint pink blush colouring his cheeks. Ron, sensing that the moment was over, moved away, reclining against the back of the loveseat and staring up once more at the ceiling. They remained silent, both awkwardly trying to avoid the other's eyes, the only sound in the room the popping of the wood in the fireplace.

"What was that?" Draco finally asked, his grey eyes fixed pointedly on some point on the floor.

"I was giving you my robes," Ron said, still staring at the ceiling. "You said you were cold."

"I wasn't talking about that and you know it," Draco said, his tone snappish, sounding livelier than Ron had heard in a while. "What was…_that?_" He lifted his head to look at Ron, his eyes sharp, his cheeks tinged with pink.

"That, Draco, is what they call a _moment_," Ron said, thinking back to the Muggle romance novels that Hermione had left out in the common room. Being curious, he had picked one up and liked it immensely, reading through the entire series without Hermione's knowledge. Not that he would ever admit to reading them.

"A _what_?" Draco lifted himself up onto his knees, glaring at Ron. "Weasley, you aren't making any sense."

Rolling his eyes, Ron looked down at Draco, the scathing comment he had prepared dying on his tongue as he opened his mouth. Draco was before him, on his knees, wearing Ron's robe over his own, his normally pale skin tinged with pink, his grey eyes sharp and demanding. His hair was slightly disheveled, the light from the fire behind him glowing in the blond strands.

Ron felt his eyes widen, his heart stopping for a fraction of a second. In all of his life, he had never found another male attractive, but in the moment, Draco Malfoy was absolutely _fucking beautiful. _

"I…" Ron swallowed heavily, his heart beginning to beat quickly in his chest. "I…It doesn't matter," he said, unable to look away from Draco. His eyes wandered over the contour of Draco's face, the high cheekbones, the slightly pointed chin, the blazing grey eyes…

Before he could stop himself, Ron tentatively raised a hand to cup Draco's cheek, marveling silently at how soft the skin was under his calloused palms.

"W-what are you doing?" Draco asked breathlessly. His eyes widened to the size of saucers, but he didn't move away. Ron let his thumb trace over a cheekbone, watching in fascination as Draco closed his eyes and shivered.

"I don't…I don't really know," Ron answered honestly, enthralled by the look on Draco's face. "I…I just…" He swallowed nervously, his thumb still running over Draco's smooth skin. "I'm…" _I'm_ _not sure what the hell I'm doing, but I'm not going to stop._

Draco opened his eyes again, his pupils blown wide. He stared intensely at Ron for a heartbeat, his eyes full of an emotion that Ron was unable to name, his lips parting slightly as if he were about to say something. Before Ron could move away, Draco closed the distance between them, his lips pressing soundly against Ron's.

Ron closed his eyes in bliss as he felt Draco's mouth mold around his, his lips soft and heavenly, everything that he had hoped they'd be. Ron raised his free hand to thread his fingers through Draco's hair, too preoccupied to be surprised as Draco clambered onto the loveseat, straddling Ron's legs, his arms going around Ron's neck.

He had no idea how long it lasted, but it felt that Draco pulled away far too quickly for his liking, his breathing coming in ragged gasps. Draco pressed his forehead against Ron's, his arms still around him, a satisfied smirk on his face. "Is that what you meant by a _moment_, Weasley?"

* * *

Harry felt extremely faint as he stood in front of Severus' office, his hand poised to knock on the wooden door. His heart was racing painfully fast in his chest and his stomach felt as if it had dropped into his feet. He was trembling slightly, but he knew that he had to do this.

He had been dancing around the situation for far too long, and now it was time to face the music. He was in love with Severus Snape, and he was Harry's soulmate. This wasn't something that he could run from. He wanted to be with Severus, in every way that he could. His body and mind ached for him, his magic eagerly searching for Severus'.

He _needed _Severus. He needed his presence, his acceptance, his love. He needed Severus to hold him, to touch him, to love him. He needed Severus to guide him, and be there for him and he needed to be there for Severus as well.

He _wanted_ Severus. He wanted Severus, his love, his body, his mind, every piece that Severus was willing to give him. He wanted all of the love that Severus could offer. He wanted Severus' love. He wanted Severus to love him as Harry loved him.

Harry swallowed nervously and summoned all of the fabled Gryffindor courage, knocking on the door with three short raps, the noise seeming to echo harshly around the empty halls.

Before he could run, the door slowly opened, and Harry felt his stomach erupt into butterflies. Severus stood there, one hand grasping the door with white knuckles. The sneer on his face vanished, replaced by a blank expression, his eyes the only thing showing any emotion.

They stared at one another, emerald eyes meeting obsidian, challenging, glaring, daring the other to look away first, though neither were willing to. Harry refused to buckle under those eyes, those beautiful black eyes that had kept him awake for nights on end.

"Can I help you, Mr. Potter?" Severus asked, his voice soft and silky, sending shivering down Harry's spine.

"I need to speak to you," Harry said, his gaze never wavering. "In your office, _sir._ It's incredibly important." _Please. Listen to me. I'll go mad if you don't. I need you, Severus. I need you to accept me. Please. Merlin, please, just listen to me._

"Very well," Severus said after a long moment of tense silence, stepping to the side to allow Harry through. "Have a seat, Mr. Potter."

"I would prefer to stand, Professor," Harry said as he brushed past Severus, thrills shooting through him as his body touched his soulmate's. He shivered with desire, forcing himself to focus on this task at hand.

He waited until Severus closed the door to face him, rolling up the sleeves of his uniform shirt as he did so. He held his right wrist up, the tattoo in plain sight. Severus' eyes immediately went to it, the only sign of his surprise the slight widening of his eyes.

"I wanted to speak to you about this," Harry said, feeling relieved that he had finally showed his mark to his soulmate. His magic was rejoicing, circling around him, the rush of it making him feel almost giddy.

"You wanted to speak to me about a tattoo, Mr. Potter?" Severus asked, raising an eyebrow. "I assure you, Mr. Potter, I have much better things to do with my time than-"

"-entertain me," Harry finished with practiced ease. "Yes, I'm aware. But this isn't a tattoo, sir. This is a soulmate marking." He felt himself beginning to tremble again, but he was determined not to show it in front of Severus. He would make him proud. "I…You're my soulmate, sir."

Harry's heart felt as if it were about to burst in his chest, but he continued to stare at Severus, as if he were challenging the man to deny his claims. For once, it seemed as if the Potions professor was thrown off, if his silence was anything to go by.

"I do not have time for these games," Severus said finally, a sneer crossing his face. "Mr. Potter, if you are going to continue wasting my time, you may leave my-"

"This isn't fucking game, Severus," Harry said sharply, effectively cutting his mate off. "Merlin, I haven't been able to sleep for the past month, because it physically pains me to be away from you. And then you avoid me in class, don't look at me, don't speak to me, and my heart feels as if it's about to burst into a thousand pieces because I think you don't want me. You're my soulmate, and I'm in love with you, you prick."

* * *

_Haha. How's THAT for a chapter?! Anyway, I'm on Tumblr now guys! Follow me at _**saelysia-the-greater** _Seriously. You guys really should. I saw Iron Man 3 last weekend. If you haven't seen it yet, GO NOW. I'm seeing the Great Gatsby with Peaches tomorrow. This should prove to be pretty awesome. Anyway, I'm off to bed now. G'night, bitches. Read, review, send love. Love and kisses and Nutella to you all!_


	15. Chapter 15

_**New Perspective (Or the New-Found Adoration of Severus Snape)**_

_Chapter 15 – I'd Give Up Forever to Touch You_

_A/N: Writing last chapter took a lot out of me, and I feel like this one will too. I'm so attached to this story it could be classified as unhealthy. Anyway, Great Gatsby was fucking awesome. It was…just…I just can't… I've lost my ability to can. Now, I just have to wait a week for the new Star Trek to come out. If you've seen it, no spoilers. So many good movies, so little time. _

"_Demons" by Imagine Dragons and "Iris" by the Goo Goo Dolls. _

_I am not J.K. Rowling, unfortunately for me. I don't even really need the disclaimers anymore…_

* * *

_I'm in love with you._

The confession seemed to echo around the room, filling the air and repeating it over and over like a mantra in Harry's mind.

The silence between them seemed to stretch for an eternity, Severus' eyes locked with Harry's, neither of them moving the slightest, hardly daring to breathe. They stared at one another, smouldering obsidian burning into flashing emerald, their hearts racing in their chests, almost beating as one.

Harry slowly lowered his arm, pressing it to his side as he tentatively whispered, "Severus?"

Without a word to Harry, Severus turned on his heel, his robes flaring out behind him as he strode towards the door, flinging the heavy wood open with just the flick of his wrist. Harry's eyes widened as Severus swept out of the room, his legs automatically moving him forward to follow the man.

_No, Severus. Turn around. Come back. Please, Severus. Turn around._

"Wait!" he called, frantically trying to catch up. "Severus, wait!"

When the man made no inclination to slow down, Harry felt his heart clench painfully in his chest. He couldn't let Severus just walk away from him, not now, not ever. Not when he could feel that there was far too much to lose if he allowed Severus to walk out if his life. He knew that he needed the sarcastic, dour bastard, and he wasn't about to lose him now.

Harry could feel in his soul that he would go through death and beyond for the man in front of him, and he had no intention of ever letting Severus go. He needed to get the man to _turn around. _

Harry took a deep breath, and then-

"That's right," he snarled angrily after Severus, knowing exactly what to say. "Run away from me, just like a _fucking coward would._"

Severus stopped midstride, faltering slightly, before turning around, a furious expression on his face. "How dare you?" he hissed, retracing his steps until he was nearly chest to chest with Harry. "You _dare_ call _me _a coward?"

"I dare," Harry shot back, trying to ignore the thrills coursing through his body. "You're acting like a damn coward and running away. I told you that I'm in love with you and you bloody fucking run out of the room!" He had to fight to keep himself from shouting at Severus, angry as he was, knowing that his mate's entire life could be compromised if someone should overhear.

"Mr. Potter," Severus snarled, lowering his face so that he was eye-level with Harry, "I will _not_ be made the target of one of your stupid, childish pranks. If you-"

"Oh for Merlin's sake!" Harry cried, throwing his arms up into the air. "What do I have to do to prove to you that this isn't some stupid fucking game? I'm _in love with you!"_

"So you keep saying, Potter, but I don't-"

Harry growled in the back of his throat, having had enough, and reached forward, grabbing fistfuls of Severus' black teaching robes, pulling the man flush against his chest. "I swear on my mother's life that _this is not a game_," he said forcefully, angrily, his green eyes flashing dangerously. "_You are not a game to me_."

When Harry pressed his lips against Severus', he wasn't expecting it to be soft and sweet, like something out of those romantic novels that Hermione – and oddly enough, Ron – had a penchant for. It wasn't chaste, it wasn't gentle, it wasn't reminiscent. There was no gazing softly into each other's eyes, nor sighs of sweet satisfaction.

It was fiery, rough, reminding Harry of cinnamon and gunpowder as Severus carded his fingers through Harry's hair and gripped the roots tightly. It was all teeth and tongue, biting and nipping and – _oh_ _sweet Merlin_ – Severus' hands gripping Harry's waist hard enough to bruise. It was hard and masculine and dominating and just _perfect._

Harry pulled away when the need for oxygen became too great, his lips kiss-swollen and bruising, his breath coming in harsh pants, his eyes sparkling with satisfaction. His face felt flushed and his knuckles were white from gripping Severus' robes. He was trembling slightly, his magic leaping up and dancing around him with glee, melding with Severus' as he and Harry stood there, only staring at one another.

Harry smiled shyly, releasing his death grip and smoothing out the wrinkles in the material, splaying his palms open on Severus' chest. "I told you," he murmured, reveling in the rhythmic beating of Severus' heart under his fingers, knowing that it beat only for him. "I love you."

"Have you lost your mind?" Severus asked, his voice low and raspy. Harry's smile only widened when he saw that there was the barest hint of a smirk curling at the corners of his soulmate's lips.

"It feels like it sometimes," Harry admitted sheepishly. "But I've never been so sure about something in my life, Severus. And I promise you that I'm not-"

He was silenced by Severus' lips on his again, feverous and insistent, sending jolts of pleasure and heat through Harry's body. He moaned low in his throat, deep and primal, sliding his arms around Severus' neck tightly, holding on as if the man in front of him would disappear if he let go.

He would never let go.

* * *

Up in the Ravenclaw Tower, Luna suddenly smiled, placing a bookmark in the thick novel she had been occupied with as she lifted her head, gazing at the ceiling, the weight on her heart suddenly lifted from her. She laughed softly, not loud enough to alert the others in the common room, but enough to convey her joy. She could feel the tendrils of magic plucking at her, pulling on her powers and showing her everything.

"What's got you going, Luna?" Terry Boot asked her, pausing in his frantic scribbling to shoot her a concerned look. He was sitting across from her on the floor, his homework spread over the little coffee table, the perfect spot to sit with her and finish his paper, he had told her when he entered the common room.

"I'm just simply happy, Terry," she said, lowering her head to smile dreamily at him. "It was one of those moments when you just smile because you can. Have you ever had one of those moments?" She tilted her head slightly, looking at him curiously. She had always liked Terry, as he had defended her on more than one occasion to their housemates, arguing that just because she saw things differently than the rest of them didn't make her unintelligent. They would often play chess together, though Luna would usually win after about five moves, and she enjoyed when they would chat. He was very insightful and had an open mind, something that she didn't normally find in people her age.

"Once or twice, yeah," he said shyly, his cheeks flushing. "Normally when I'm thinking about…um…" He ducked his head, picking up his quill again. "I'm glad that you're happy, Luna."

Luna simply smiled again at him before lifting her head to look at the ceiling once more, her heart feeling light and free. "I am very glad to be happy," she said with a contented sigh, opening her Sight. From somewhere in the castle, she could see Severus and Harry's auras, combining into one, meshing, molding, declaring.

It was absolutely breathtaking to watch.

"I am very glad to be happy," she repeated, her smile never leaving her face.

* * *

_So, I know that this was short. And I'm sorry. But I just HAD to upload this. I started writing this just earlier today and I thought that this was a perfect spot to end it. Anything else would have taken away from it. Next chapter will be longer. I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die. Not that I can die. Because I'm a Time Lord. Well, g'night for now, bitches. Read, review, send love. Love and kisses and Nutella to you all._


	16. Chapter 16

_**New Perspective (Or the New-Found Adoration of Severus Snape)**_

_Chapter Sixteen – You Will Find Me_

_A/N: Once again, I'm really sorry for how short the last chapter was. But I really didn't know what else to add on to it when it was already just so perfect. Also, I want to know your opinion on any future relationship that Luna may have. I originally wanted her with Ginny, but I threw Terry in there last minute, and I'm wondering what merits a relationship with him may have. PM me your thoughts._

"_Time After Time" by Quietdrive, "Give Me Love" by Ed Sheeran, and "It's Not Your Fault" by AWOLNATION wrote this chapter._

_Once again, not J.K. Rowling. I make no profit. I just get sick thrills out of playing with her characters._

* * *

The villa still smelled of stale seawater and fish, the musty air weighing heavily down on Sirius' shoulders as he waited for Remus to climb through the Floo. He hadn't been here since he was a child, the last time having been just before his cousin Bellatrix's third or fourth birthday. He and Andromeda had roped Narcissa into playing a prank on the adults – what it had been, he couldn't recall exactly, but it had gone spectacularly, if the scolding he had received from his mother afterwards was anything to go by.

He had never understood why his mother had loved this villa so much, when it was dark and closed off, decorated with much of the same décor as Grimmauld Place, the atmosphere thick and depressing, heavy and draining. It was hidden away in the mountains, overlooking a drop of about 300 feet into the churning waters of the Aegean Sea. He had often slept uneasily in this house, afraid that he would somehow fall over the cliffs, and that no one would ever miss him.

Regulus had often spoken about the ghosts that still haunted the cliffs, but as a child Sirius had never put much stock into what his younger brother said. He had never seen the ghosts himself, but now, as an adult, he didn't doubt they existed.

"Sirius?"

A strained smile on his face, Sirius turned to offer a hand to steady Remus, who was trying to brush bits of ash off of his shirt front. "Welcome to Greece, Remy," he said, looking around uneasily. The house looked as if it hadn't been used in years, mildew and mould staining the ceilings and creeping down the walls, the wallpaper starting to peel away, the entire room covered in a fine layer of dust.

"What a…charming house," Remus said dryly, glancing at the hardwood floor underneath their feet. "I can smell the wood rotting. Be careful where you step; you might go right through the floor." He pointed at a peculiar dark stain on the wood, nodding at it. "One of the pipes must have burst. That's where the rot starts."

"Let's try to find her quickly," Sirius said, taking Remus' hand in his for reassurance. Remus could felt his mate trembling slightly, being in his family's home making him uneasy. "I want to get out of here as soon as we can."

Remus squeezed Sirius' hand, twining their fingers together and holding his wand at chest level. He tilted his head slightly, listening for any strange sounds in the empty, abandoned house. The smell of the wood rotting masked any scent other than his and Sirius', making it harder for him to sense anything.

He could hear Sirius' heartbeat, mixing with the sound of his own, their breathing sounding quite loud in the quiet. There was a slight groaning noise from underneath, from the rusting, ancient pipes, the sound of the wind rustling around the eaves of the house outside, a subtle, almost inaudible creak from…

"There's someone in the next room," Remus whispered, gripping Sirius' hand tightly and leading him forward slowly, keeping his ear cocked in the direction of the noise. He could hear the faint fluttering of a heartbeat, and then another quiet creak, as if the person shifted their weight in anticipation. "Keep your wand ready."

Sirius nodded, holding his wand up as Remus let go of his hand and stepped carefully across the floor, pressing himself against the wall just before the door was blasted off the hinges, several jets of bright red light flying into the room.

Sirius ducked and fired back, snarling, taking care not to accidentally hit Remus.

"Finally found me, have you, Lucius?" a regal female voice cried above the noise.

"Narcissa?" Sirius yelped, dropping to the floor to avoid a nasty looking purple jinx. It soared over his head and struck the wooden beam of the next doorway, the wood groaning as if crashed tremendously to the floor. Sirius felt his teeth rattle, accidentally biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood.

"_Sirius_?!"

Slowly getting to his feet, his wand still pointed towards Narcissa, he stared at his cousin like he'd never seen her before. "What was the last thing that I said to Narcissa Malfoy before her wedding?" he asked, his tone harsh and demanding.

Narcissa rolled her eyes, the picture of exasperation, and answered, "You said, 'Anytime you want to back out, I've got my broom and a flask of Firewhiskey waiting.' You nearly gave my mother a heart attack."

"The old bat needed some excitement in her life," Sirius said, grinning and lowering his wand. He surveyed the room, looking behind him at the mangled remnants of the doorway. "Nice to see you've developed a backbone, Cissy."

Narcissa let out a choked noise, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, before rushing at Sirius, throwing her arms around him tightly and sobbing into his neck, her hot tears soaking into his shirt. Stunned, Sirius slowly and cautiously put his arms around her waist, his eyes wide as he looked at Remus over her head.

Remus only smiled, dusting off his shirtfront and starting about repairing the room, though Sirius was content to leave it as it was. He was going to close this house off and leave it to rot, regardless if it belonged to Narcissa.

"I thought you might have been Lucius," Narcissa sobbed, bringing him back to the present. "I thought I was going to die without seeing Draco." Her nails dug into his skin, but Sirius couldn't bring himself to care about that. He began rubbing large, soothing circles onto Narcissa's back, hushing her quietly.

"You're safe now, Cissy," he said, trying to speak around the lump in his throat. "You're going to come back to Grimmauld Place with us, alright? He won't ever come near you again, Cissy. I won't let him. I won't ever let that bastard near you or Draco. _Never._"

As he held her, Sirius vividly recalled the day Narcissa had come to him, sobbing and weeping as she was now, begging him to ask her parents to reconsider her engagement to Lucius. Her composure broke, as did her spirit, and Sirius had been helpless to stop it. He had offered countless times to run away to America with her, where they could both be free from their family, but she hadn't been brave enough to accept his proposal.

"_We can go to America, Cissy! Think about it! We can leave tonight and no one would be the wiser!"_

"_Sirius, I…I can't leave. It wouldn't be right. What would happen to Bella if I left? I can't…I can't shame the family that way."_

The day of her wedding, Sirius – who had most definitely _not _been invited – went to her as she was getting ready, giving her the option once again to leave before it was too late. She had looked so beautiful, he remembered, in her white wedding robes emblazoned with black, lace-like swirls that Sirius knew had been his mother's, her hair pulled back in a way that framed her face perfectly.

The Narcissa he knew, the strong-willed, sharp-tongued young woman who had a backbone and resolve made of steel, was gone. In her place was a docile, compliant stranger who acted as if she had never seen him before in her life.

She hadn't spoken to him, remaining silent as he kneeled in front of her, begging her to come with him, taking both of her hands in his and crying unashamedly. She had stared at a point above his head, not looking him in the eye once as he pleaded with her.

"_Come with me, Cissy. Please. Come with me. You don't want to go through with this. You don't want to marry him. Come with me. We can go wherever you want! We never have to come back. Cissy? Please, listen to me."_

"I'm so sorry, Sirius," Narcissa wept, her voice raw with pain and sorrow. "I should have listened to you years ago; I should have gone with you." She pulled away from him, her large, tearful searching his face hesitantly. "I'm sorry," she repeated.

"You have nothing to apologise for," he said gently, cupping her chin with his hand. "Just come with Remus and I, and I promise we'll keep you safe. I won't let anyone hurt you, Narcissa. I promise."

Narcissa nodded, tears still streaming down her face as he and Remus led her towards the fireplace.

* * *

With his palms still splayed across Severus' chest, Harry rested his forehead against the older man's and closed his eyes, sighing almost inaudibly in contentment. A sense of peace overcame Harry as Severus' heart beat steadily under his outstretched fingers, his magic entwining itself with Severus' and enveloping them like a cocoon.

He knew that his lips were still kiss swollen and bruising, and that his hips more than likely bored bruises the size of Severus' hands, but at that moment, Harry didn't care. He was relishing the feeling of Severus' arms around him, of being held by his soulmate, the hole that had began to form in his heart complete once again.

He could feel Severus staring at him, his black eyes a maelstrom of emotions, but Harry couldn't bring himself to open his. He knew that once he did, they would have to speak, be rational, discuss things. They would have to be logical, to think ahead, and Harry didn't want that at the moment. He wanted to sit here, on the small loveseat that Severus had transfigured from an object from somewhere in his office once they had thought to leave the hallway, wrapped in Severus' embrace.

The outside world could wait.

He almost shivered when one of Severus' hands came up to his face, cupping his cheek and stroking his cheekbone absently with his thumb. His entire body was alive with nerves, each touch sending thrills through him, and Harry didn't know that it had been possible to ever feel this way, so…_alive. _

"Harry," Severus said softly, his chest rumbling as his spoke. His voice was soft, silky…warm in a way that Harry had never heard it before. "Harry."

"Not just yet," Harry answered, sighing quietly. "I don't want…" He trailed off, unsure of how to describe what he was feeling. He shifted closer to Severus, if that was possible, trying to drink in his presence. "I don't want to think."

"We have to," Severus countered, a tinge of sadness in his voice. "Harry, there are many things that we need to discuss. This isn't something to be taken lightly."

"I know," Harry said, grudgingly opening his eyes and lifting his head. "It's just…it feels perfect. I don't want…" Harry sighed, his voice sad when he spoke again. "This is something that I've never had before. I feel like it'll all just disappear once we start to think."

He left the words unsaid, but Harry knew that Severus understood. With the war, with Voldemort, neither of them knew the outcome. They didn't know if they would live, if they would die, what the consequences of either would be. Harry looked sadly down at his hand, the one over Severus' heart, where Severus felt so alive and warm. That could be ripped away from him on the whim of a madman.

He was slightly surprised when Severus pressed a kiss to his forehead, his thumb continually stroking Harry's cheek. He didn't think that Severus would be the kind of small gestures such as that, but Harry enjoyed it. It was something that was reserved only for him, he felt, and it meant the world to him.

"There is something that we need to discuss, Harry," Severus began, his voice heavy and slightly hollow. "This…it may change everything." He paused, as if searching for the right words. "You must listen to me, Harry, and not interrupt me, because what I have to say is extremely important. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded, his heart clenching when he saw the raw sorrow in Severus' eyes. "Tell me," he prompted gently, raising his hand to Severus' and wrapping his fingers around it. "I'll listen."

And he did, as the entire story poured unbidden from Severus' lips. He listened intently as Severus spoke of his childhood with Harry's mother, of his father's relentless and unwarranted tormenting, the hopeless feeling as a child who was unwanted by everyone save on person, the solace that the Dark Arts gave him, the stupidity of a teenager looking for a place to belong, a person to follow.

He listened as Severus told him of the day he took the Mark, the utter agony in his voice causing tears to flow from Harry's eyes. Harry felt a wave of revulsion, not at Severus, but at the world, for causing the man before him to hate himself so much, to use sarcasm as armor to hide himself and his vulnerabilities, and how Voldemort had exploited them.

Harry grew very still when Severus began the tale of the prophecy, how he had been the one to tell the Dark Lord of it, and how it had been his fault that Harry's parents had been taken from him.

"I was very bitter," Severus said, his voice and eyes hollow. "I still am, over what your father did to me in school. It is pointless and childish to hold onto such hatred, but I am not a forgiving person, Harry. I have been unable to forgive James Potter for years of torment, and you have paid dearly because of it. It was, and still is, my fault that the Dark Lord killed your mother and father."

Severus closed his eyes, as if he were waiting for Harry to pull away from him, to run, and it sent a sharp spike of fresh pain through Harry's heart.

"I'm not going to say that what you did wasn't stupid or childish," Harry said slowly, picking his words very carefully. "Because that's exactly what it was." He felt Severus tense underneath of his hand, and Harry quickly continued in a softer voice, "But I believe that you have already repented for it, Severus. You have redeemed my parents' death time and time again by keeping me alive. You have continually risked your life so that others may live, and, to me, that makes you a hero." He gently squeezed Severus' hand, a tear escaping from his eye. "Everything that you have ever done for me makes you either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid."

Severus opened his eyes to stare at Harry with something akin to wonder, his mouth making a perfect 'O' shape. He seemed to be unable to form words, if the emotions rolling through his eyes were anything to go by. Harry smiled sadly at him, leaning his cheek into Severus' hand.

"It may take me a while to come to terms with it," Harry said, closing his eyes. "But I forgive you, Severus." He had forgiven Severus as he was speaking to Harry, the heartbreak and self-loathing in his voice and in his eyes enough for Harry to know that he truly and deeply regretted it, carrying the weight of his actions around with him everyday like a chain around his neck.

"I don't know why I ever thought you were like your father," Severus finally managed to say, his voice raw with unnamable emotions.

"Because you're an idiot," Harry said fondly, turning his face to press a kiss to Severus' palm. He smiled against it, his heart lifting in his chest. "I am too."

"You'll find no arguments from me there," Severus said quietly, raising a brow when Harry only rolled his eyes. "However, I am not an idiot."

"It takes one to know one, Severus," Harry said simply, leaning forward and capturing Severus' lips with his own before the man could retort. His hand tightened around Severus' once more, trying to convey everything that he left unsaid.

Harry was afraid that Severus, as well as everyone else that he loved, would be taken away from him. His friends and family were at a constant risk of being killed, merely for being associated with Harry. He had lost Cedric and his parents, and he had very nearly lost Sirius as well. He didn't know, didn't _want _to know, how he would carry on if Severus was taken away from him.

It was still very early on in their…relationship, Harry supposed he could call it that, but he knew without a doubt he would give everything to keep his soulmate safe. He could feel tendrils of Severus' magic and energy entwining with his, binding the two of them together in a way that he would have never dreamed possible. He could feel Severus, taste him, touch him, and Harry didn't know how he could ever cope without it.

"I can hear you thinking," Severus commented when Harry pulled away, his voice wry. "I didn't know you knew how." The smallest hint of a smirk was on his lips, his eyes still warm and tender. It sent shivers down Harry's spine, knowing that Severus would never show this side of himself to anyone else in the world.

"You're a git," Harry muttered, shaking his head fondly.

"Resorting to name calling, are we?"

Harry only rolled his eyes in response before looking sadly at Severus. "You could be taken away from me," he whispered, giving voice to his fears. "Every day, every minute, there's that chance that you'll be gone." He swallowed, his eyes welling with tears. "I know…I know that we haven't…that this is new, Severus, but I've thought about this long beforehand. I don't want to lose you. It's selfish of me, but I don't know what I would do if you were gone. The past month had nearly killed me, separating myself from you, waiting, and I can't imagine what an entire life would be like without you."

By this time, Harry's cheeks were wet with tears, but he couldn't bring himself to wipe them away. "I've lost loved ones, Severus, and I know that you have too," he murmured. "But the idea of losing you has kept me up night after night and it scares me more than I think I could possibly comprehend."

Severus didn't respond immediately; he only stared into Harry's eyes, wiping away his tears methodically. "There is a war going on, Harry," he reminded him gently. "We cannot control everything that happens to us. People die in wars, all the time, and there is almost nothing we can do to prevent it. The idea of dying does not frighten me, as I am prepared to die fighting for what I believe." He tightened his hold around Harry's waist, bringing him closer so that Harry was almost in his lap. "However, you have given me a reason to live, and I do not intend to die while you are still here on this Earth."

* * *

_I meant to have this up yesterday, but my internet connection was wonky, so here it is now. Chapter16. Emotion-filled and angsty. I hope I did an okay job. I know that Harry and Severus' relationship is still new, but they've been in love with one another for quite awhile, even if they didn't entirely realise it, so they're bound to be a little more serious in their approach. Anyway, speaking of angst, to all of my fellow Whovians who watched last night's season finale, know that I am comforting you with a hot beverage, a shock blanket, and lots of hugs and cookies. I also saw the new Star Trek on Friday. Just. Damn. Go see it if you haven't. Follow me on Tumblr at _**saelysia-the-greater**_ for those who haven't done so already. Read, review, send love. Love and kisses to you all!_


	17. Chapter 17

_**New Perspective (Or the New-Found Adoration of Severus Snape)**_

_Chapter Seventeen – Daylight Could Be So Violent_

_A/N: Oh, so much angst in the last chapter. I hope you all liked it, because I know that I absolutely adore angst. It's my favourite emotion. So, the plot is coming along nicely, don't you think? The extreme drama will be popping up sometime soon, so hold on to your panties, ladies and germs. So, I have to apologise for the wait with updating. These past few weeks have been hectic. I finished my sophomore year of high school, my mother was admitted to the hospital with appendicitis, and I went to Europe last week. Europe, by the way, was absolutely fantastic. I loved it so much._

"_No Light, No Light" by Florence + the Machine wrote this chapter_

_Once again, not J.K. Rowling. Yadda yadda yadda. _

* * *

Bellatrix was giggling madly to herself, a high-pitched, nerve-grating noise that made the nerve under Lucius' eye twitch. She was swaying back and forth in her seat, her hands clasped together on her lap, watching the others at the table from underneath her veil of wild curls.

He had never been fond of his sister-in-law, having thought that she was too unstable, too wild for his taste. She had been incredibly young when he married Narcissa, and age had done nothing to even her temper.

"Bella, my dear," Voldemort hissed from the head of the table, his burning crimson eyes staring somewhat fondly at his most dedicated follower. "It's time to be quiet now."

She smiled, almost shyly, at the Dark Lord, nodding her head meekly and ceasing that infernal sound. She reclined back in her seat, keeping her hands clasped together. "Yes, my Lord," she purred, the sickly sweet tone in her voice nearly making Lucius roll his eyes.

The Dark Lord may have brought her into his bedchamber on numerous occasions, but anyone with sense could see that Bellatrix was merely a distraction and a plaything to the Dark Lord, and nothing more. Narcissa had often worried about her sister's wellbeing in the hands of the Dark Lord, but Lucius would quickly reprimand her for questioning him.

Ah, Narcissa. Lucius' hand curled into a fist atop his walking stick, his eyes narrowing in fury. After she and Draco fled from Malfoy Manor, he had been unable to locate her in any of the Black family homes, as they were closed off to anyone who was not related by blood.

He supposed he could have asked Bella to find her for him, but he did not want to put himself into his sister-in-law's debt, knowing that she would find some demented form of repayment. She was unhinged and psychotic, and he wanted no more interaction with her than was necessary.

Lucius grit his teeth together, trying to quell the rage and fury that had welled up in him. He had allowed that miserable bitch overpower him, taking their son with her, pulling them both out of his grasp. He had lost two of his pawns, and it looked as if his game were over.

"Lucius, is there something wrong?" the Dark Lord asked, his voice sliding down the table. "You seem to be upset. Tell us, what bothers you?"

Feeling the blood drain from his face, Lucius said quietly, through gritted teeth, "I am…reflecting, my Lord, on my recent failures." When he had gone to the Dark Lord to tell him of Narcissa and Draco's flight, he had received the worst _Crucio_ the Dark Lord had ever inflicted upon him. Lucius had walked about with a limp for days, though he knew that he was lucky. The Dark Lord had been displeased with him, but he had not killed Lucius.

"Ah, yes, Lucius," the Dark Lord drawled, leaning back in his seat and staring at Lucius with thinly veiled humour and contempt. "You see, my dear followers, the Malfoy patriarch does not have that firm a grasp on his family as I had previously thought. He allowed Draco and Narcissa to escape from him."

Mutterings broke out amongst the gathered Death Eaters, all of the glancing looking Lucius with barely contained glee. Bellatrix, who was now draped partially over the table, was giggling once more, cooing over Lucius' failures to anyone who would listen to her. Her dark eyes glittered dangerously as she stared directly down the table at Lucius, a feral smile curling at her lips.

The only one who remained silent was Severus. His dark eyes never once left the Dark Lord, his hands resting on the table, the right one covering the left.

"I had intended for young Draco to prove his worth," the Dark Lord continued, silencing everyone immediately. "Dear Lucius had confided in me that Draco wished to take the Mark, and I had given him a task in order to earn it." The Dark Lord smiled, the sight hideous and unnerving. "I had given Draco the task of killing Albus Dumbledore."

Bellatrix straightened in her seat, her lips pouting in confusion. "B-But, my Lord, the boy is a coward," she said, her voice breathy and high. "Surely one of your more devoted, loyal followers should be given the task?"

"Do not question me, Bellatrix," the Dark Lord hissed, his eyes blazing with fury.

She cowered, hiding behind her hair once more. "I am sorry, my Lord," she whispered, stretching a hand out to him, as if she wanted to touch him. "Please, punish me in any way you wish." Bellatrix offered a tentative, deranged smile, before pursing her lips into a pout once more.

The Dark Lord ignored her, turning his eyes once more to Lucius. "Lucius, Lucius, Lucius," he chided, shaking his head. "Whatever am I to do with you? You have continuously failed me in your endeavours, and I fear that my patience with you will soon wear thin."

Lowering his head slightly in submission, Lucius ground out, "I am truly sorry, my Lord. I had no idea that Draco was such a willful and disobedient child. I truly believed that he wished to serve you as faithfully as I have done. He will pay for betraying his family and you in such a way."

The Dark Lord began to laugh, the sound raspy and harsh, almost as if he were choking on air. A sense of unease settled over the table, though Bellatrix had spread herself against the table once more, her cleavage spilling from her dress. "Oh, my dear Lucius, I have not believed you to be so naïve."

Bellatrix giggled quietly, pressing her hand to her mouth to muffle the noise.

"You see, Lucius, I cannot ask Severus to carry out this deed," Voldemort continued, sobering. "His position as a spy is far too dear for the old fool to suspect anything. Draco was and remains to be the only person who has access to Albus Dumbledore. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my Lord," Lucius said, bobbing his head once. "What do you wish for me to do?"

Voldemort smiled cruelly, baring all of his teeth for his followers to see. "I wish for you to find Narcissa and Draco, Lucius, and bring them to me. I do so enjoy family reunions, and I intend to make examples of them."

"Examples for what, my Lord?" Lucius asked, the question falling from his lips before he could stop himself. He gripped his walking stick tightly, his knuckles turning white from the strain.

"Of what happens to those who betray me," Voldemort hissed, the triumph and arrogance thick in his voice. "I do believe I will enjoy this."

"Oh, my Lord," Bellatrix said loudly, lifting her head and grinning excitedly. "Please, my Lord, _please, let me play with my dear elder sister. I would be so honoured if you would grant me this." Her eyes gleamed brightly, her chest heaving as her breathing grew erratic with joy._

"Very well, Bella," the Dark Lord conceded. "As a reward for being so very faithful to me. You may have the task of killing Narcissa Malfoy." His gaze swept back to Lucius, his crimson eyes sending a shiver of fear down Lucius' spine. "You will bring them to me, Lucius."

Lucius briefly looked at Severus, whose face had remained emotionless, though Lucius noticed his hands his stiffened slightly, before he bowed his head once more. "Yes, my Lord."

* * *

_Hey guys… I'm sorry this is so short. I've been having a bit of a hard time trying to pick the storyline back up after being away for so long, so I figured I'd give you what I have, while I focus on working on the rest. I am really sorry, it's just that life has been really hectic the past few weeks, and I feel awful neglecting you guys. I love you all. I really do. Also, I'm thinking of changing my username to _**saelysia-the-greater**_, but that's still up in the air for right now. Read, review, send love. Love and kisses to you all._


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